


The Sex Tapes Part 2

by seadreams



Series: The Sex Tapes [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Jason Todd, Double Penetration, Jealousy, Light BDSM, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Possessive Dick Grayson, Sex Club, Sex Tapes, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seadreams/pseuds/seadreams
Summary: Dick has never thought himself the jealous type, but after discovering Jason’s sex tapes, he fears he may have to revise that assessment of himself, especially when it seems that Tim and Jason are nowgoing outwith each other.But if they’re going out, why did he just find a bunch of new videos on Jason’s computer?
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Roman Sionis/Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: The Sex Tapes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716469
Comments: 54
Kudos: 223





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I encourage you to read the first part, otherwise this’ll all be a bit confusing for you, but if you really don’t want to, all you gotta know is:
> 
> Jason: *is hot*  
> Everyone: nice  
> Dick: *monologue about the delicate tendrils of Jason’s midnight hair blowing in the breeze, his eyes the colour of ocean waves* Timothy I doth loveth Jason and I implore thee for thine assistance in courting him  
> Tim: *does the exact opposite of help*  
> Dick:  
> Dick: what
> 
> I’d promised a few people in the comments on part 1 that I’d include more sex tapes, however this is much more plot-heavy. I will probably post a compilation of the individual sex tapes in a separate part, as I want to focus more on Dick and Jason here.
> 
> Also, I feel like I may need to give a bit of a warning - Slade and Roman are involved and they're, well, Slade and Roman. **See the end notes for detailed warnings.**

Dick isn’t entirely sure he’s in his right mind, deciding on coming here. He’s done a lot of stupid things in his life but this one might just take the cake.

The monitor of Jason’s computer casts a ghostly glow over his skin, the soft whirring of its fan the only noise in the emptiness of Jason’s apartment, aside from the deep, steady breaths Dick is taking to calm himself, to slow his racing heart.

He really shouldn’t be here. But he has to know.

He has to _know._

There’s an encrypted folder on the desktop titled ‘vids’. He knows that he doesn’t need to comb through Jason’s files to find anything else— _this_ is the folder he wants. He tries a number of passwords that he thinks might work—authors he knows Jason likes, book titles, car brands, motorcycles, Alfred’s name, Tim’s—hell, even his own, but none of them let him in.

A harsh puff of air escapes his lips as he leans back and taps a finger impatiently on the side of the mouse. He tries another, something silly off the top of his head: ‘chilidogs’.

His eyes widen when the folder opens up and displays dozens of video files, some created as recently as three days ago.

“Jason,” he whispers to himself, scrolling through the folder. _“Jason.”_

Some of the thumbnails don’t reveal much, but the ones that do—

He needs to have very firm, _strong_ words with a number of people.

He can’t let his anger distract him now though—the longer he stays the more he puts himself at risk of being caught snooping around Jason’s apartment. He gets his hard drive out and plugs it in, then begins copying the files. If Jason ever gets suspicious, he’s easily going to find out someone’s accessed his computer. Dick just has to cover his tracks as best he can, ensure Jason never finds out that he was—

The front door creaks open.

Oh no.

He yanks his hard drive out and closes the folder, then shuts the computer down. He can sneak out the window quickly enough—he only hopes the computer powers down before Jason sees it.

He hears footsteps coming towards the bedroom—he pushes the window open, then crawls out onto the ledge, pushing the window closed again and staring through to watch the monitor turn black and the power lights go off. He pulls himself up onto the upper ledge just as Jason pushes open his bedroom door and walks in. He climbs another floor and ends up on the roof where he collapses onto his back and just lies there while his heart thumps hard against his ribcage.

It’s while he’s lying there, under the dark curtain of the night sky, that he sees a blinking red light in his periphery. He turns his head slowly, immediately groaning at what he sees.

The red recording light of a security camera placed on the side of the ledge, pointed directly at his face.

He is so dead.

***

A week passes, and somehow he hasn’t heard from Jason at all. No angry phone call, no unexpected visits, not even a glimpse of him on the rooftops at night.

He starts to think that maybe he’s gotten away with this one. Maybe Jason hadn’t seen him on the camera—why would he have any reason to check anyway? It isn’t like Dick stole anything—not anything that would be easily noticed. Perhaps Dick has just been on edge the entire week for no reason. Jason must not know.

Still, he won’t let himself let down his guard. If Jason _does_ catch him by surprise, he isn’t going to let him blow up on him without giving as good as he gets.

It isn’t like he’s watched any of the videos he’s downloaded, in fact he hasn’t touched his hard drive since that night. He can’t bring himself to seeing Jason like that again—he’s scared of what else he might see, who else might be involved.

He’d thought that after getting together with Tim, he would stop seeing other people. It seems he was very wrong about that, and Tim is just another name in the long list of people waiting for the next opportunity to join Jason in bed.

Dick is all for the freedom of sexual expression but this…

His thoughts trail off when he sees a flash of black and orange. Dick’s guard is immediately up—he wasn’t expecting to see Deathstroke tonight. He follows behind at a distance, making sure to stay under the cover of shadows so Slade isn’t alerted to his presence. At one point, Slade stops on a rooftop and looks out, seemingly at nothing. Dick isn’t stupid enough to think that he’s simply sightseeing though; he approaches cautiously.

“Slade.”

“Grayson,” Slade says without turning around.

“Still being a nuisance to society, I see.”

Slade turns one cold blue eye on him. “And you’re still being a nosy little brat.”

“Nosy? I’ve only come to say hello.”

“I’m no fool, Grayson,” he says gruffly, shrugging his shoulders as if wishing he could physically shake Dick off. “What do you want?”

“Why are you here, Slade?”

Slade snorts. “I’m not here to kill anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No? Then what could possibly bring you back here if not a mark? Some other… person of interest, perhaps?”

Slade pauses, then turns completely to face Dick. “Hmm. I told the kid he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long,” he says placidly, his expression free of any surprise or guilt. He looks Dick up and down, his gaze scrutinizing. “And I suppose you’re not ecstatic at the idea.”

 _“Ecstatic?”_ Dick hisses. “Slade, I’m about a second away from putting my fist in your face. How _dare_ you touch him, how dare you go anywhere _near_ him—”

“Are you really angry at me for _corrupting_ your estranged successor?” Slade asks, and he would almost sound bored if Dick couldn’t see the smirk painting his lips. “Or are you, perhaps, upset that you weren’t invited to participate?”

Dick does come at him then, throwing a punch directly at his face that Slade catches easily, twisting him around, and throwing him on the ground only to plant a foot on his back, pinning him down.

“Starting a fight over a simple affair, Grayson?” he says idly as Dick tries to slow his ragged breathing. “Really, I’m disappointed.”

Dick doesn’t bother denying it—Slade’s too good at reading him that he’d be able to call out any dishonesty easily. “Whatever I feel on the matter aside, you should stay away from him,” Dick growls. “Now get off me.”

“Are you going to attack me again?”

Dick takes a moment to deliberate before responding, “I might.”

Slade removes his foot anyway, stepping back out of arm’s reach as Dick gets up onto his feet. “It depends on how you answer my next few questions,” he adds as he straightens up and brushes himself off.

“If you’re going to ask if it’s all consensual or not, you need not worry.” The whites of Slade’s teeth glint when he smiles. “Jason came to _me_ first.”

“It doesn’t matter who came to who first,” Dick snaps. “What I want to know is _why_ you’re doing it. Why him? I’m sure you have other willing partners, why Jason?”

“I’m surprised you have to ask, I’m sure you have your own reasons for chasing after him so doggedly.” When Dick doesn’t give him more than a glare in response, he sighs. “There are dozens of reasons. Because it’s convenient. Because he’s a good lay. Because he can handle what I give him.” He aims a pointed look at Dick when he adds, “Because he knows what he wants, and he isn’t afraid to ask for it.”

“Well, he obviously doesn’t know what he’s asking. Not if he’s asking it from _you._ Have you hurt him?”

“I only do what he asks me to do.”

“You’re not answering the question,” Dick says through his teeth. “Have you. Hurt him.”

Slade sighs. “Yes.”

Dick feels another bout of anger flare up and lick at his chest. “So give me _one_ good reason why I should let you leave here unharmed.”

“You’re not listening, Grayson. I only do what Jason asks me to. I may be a mercenary but I’m not entirely immoral.”

“You could _break_ him, you could _kill_ him—”

“And you could do the same to dozens, hundreds of civilians but I don’t see you agonising over whether you should stop sleeping with them.”

Dick shakes his head, disbelieving. “I’m not like you, Slade.”

“And what am I?”

“A predator. A sad, cold husk of a man who only sees Jason as a body to use.”

Slade snorts. “I won’t deny something that is true. But do you think you’re any better?”

Dick narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Well, since you’re _so_ eager to point out the power differential between us, what about you and him? You are his comrade in arms, his brother. Of course you’d want to protect him. He looks up to you, he’d do whatever you say without a second thought. So wouldn’t that make… this,” he makes a circle in the air with his finger, “a little coercive?”

Dick shuts his eyes for a moment. “I would never try to coerce him—”

“No, of course not. You’re Dick Grayson, the most trustworthy man in all of Gotham.”

Dick narrows his eyes at him, unsure as to where he’s going with this, but not suspicious enough to stop him.

Slade tips his head to the side, pretending to look thoughtful. “Oh, but it’s a little strange, because I’m certain Jason mentioned something about you not being able to accept a no? Something about him turning you down, but you continuously coming back again and again to try and force him to change his mind. Someone who broke into his home and downloaded a number of private videos from his computer without his permission.”

Dick feels himself deflate, feels all the fight leave his body at once.

Slade isn’t done. “He told me that if you ever came near him again, I have permission to break both your arms. I would rather not, to be honest, because one, I don’t have much of an inclination to follow the orders of a snotty little brat, and two, it’d be a shame to damage something so pretty, but believe me,” he steps close and leans down, his one eye glaring a hole into Dick’s own, “if _you_ come to me again, Dick Grayson, accusing me of things of which you are guilty of yourself, I will not hesitate to return whatever pain you try to inflict on me tenfold.”

And with that, he leaves Dick standing alone as he flips over the ledge and out of sight.

***

He can’t stop thinking about what Slade said.

His fingers shake with anger—or is it anticipation?—as he sits at his desk, staring at the contents of the hard drive.

He would never try to hurt Jason, _never._ Slade has no idea what he’s talking about. He likes to pretend he knows everything about everyone, but he doesn’t know Dick—he doesn’t know _this_ side of him, at least. Whatever he thinks he sees, he’s entirely wrong.

The cursor hovers over the first video in the list. It’s the most recent one, dated a few days ago. It’s depressing that this is the only way he can check in on Jason. He hasn’t seen him in almost a month now, and it’s been even longer since they last spoke. His thoughts go back to that day, when he’d gone to Jason and tried to explain himself, to tell him why he’s so adamant about keeping him safe and away from all these people so intent on using him.

He also remembers how that particular interaction ended—with a bloody nose and a stern and somewhat smug dressing-down from Bruce that was basically an underhanded ‘told you so.’

In hindsight, it was not a good idea to show up at Jason’s apartment and basically corner him. And it _definitely_ was not a good idea to offer himself in their stead.

Alright, he can admit he can be a little hot-headed at times, a little impulsive. He just has to— _not_ do that anymore. Which is probably going to be impossible to do because he seems to lose all rational thought whenever he’s around Jason.

God, what the _hell_ is he going to do? Tim was his voice of reason, but now that he’s become one of those people who only seem to be _using_ Jason he has no idea who to trust with this. He has no idea who to _talk_ to. Bruce would have been his next best bet but he’s too busy being one of the people _enabling_ Jason. He’s not going to talk to Damian for the obvious reasons, and he’s definitely not going to talk to Alfred, because he isn’t even sure if Alfred is aware of all of this.

Ridiculous. It’s all so fucking ridiculous.

He’s got his face buried in his hands when he hears a quiet chime. He looks up; there’s a notification for a new message in the corner of the screen.

It’s an unknown sender, but his scans don’t ping with any warnings of viruses or anything equally as malignant.

The message is blank save for a video attachment.

He clicks it open, and his heart drops into his stomach when he watches a few seconds of it, his vision very quickly filling with red. He can barely see through the blur of angry tears in his eyes—which is fortunate because he very nearly punches his fist through the monitor.

He pulls away before he can damage any of his expensive equipment, going to his wardrobe to put on his mask and outfit instead.

Slade has what’s coming to him.

***

“Where is he?” he shouts into the comm link as he speeds down the street. Bruce sounds utterly confused on the other end of the line.

“Where is who?”

 _“Deathstroke,”_ Dick hisses. “Where is Deathstroke?”

“Why would I have any idea where he is?”

“Because you and your group of buddies all congregate around Jason like fucking flies, okay? You _know_ where Deathstroke is.”

“You need to watch what you’re saying—”

“You _will_ tell me now or I’ll send your fucking video to Alfred.”

Bruce’s voice turns cold. _“Excuse me?”_

“You heard me.”

After a moment’s pause, in which Dick feels the tension emanating from Bruce through the comms, Bruce eventually responds, his voice pitched low and menacing. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

“Tell that to Jason, the _son_ you should be protecting—oh, wait! You’re _fucking_ him instead. Alfred is gonna _love_ finding that out.”

Bruce exhales harshly down the line, then gives him the address to a newly built apartment complex. “Do not lay a finger on Deathstroke,” he warns. “If you attack him unprovoked—”

“Thanks,” Dick says, “though I may still have to send the video if you so much as show up at this address.” And with that, he disconnects the line and smashes his foot down on the accelerator.

He gets to the place in under five minutes.

 _“Slade,”_ he shouts, standing in the courtyard. The place seems to be empty, he doesn’t think these apartments are up for rent yet, but he sees a towel hanging out to dry on one of the railings. Doesn’t take a genius to know which one Slade is in.

He continues calling for him, and Slade eventually comes out onto the balcony, dressed in nothing but a robe, wearing his eyepatch and a grin.

“What are you doing down there, kid?” he shouts, his voice echoing off the buildings. “Got nothing better to do but bother me?”

“Don’t play coy. I know it was you who sent the video.”

Slade frowns. “Video?”

“What are you trying to do, get a rise out of me? Trying to get me mad so I’ll attack you, give you an excuse to fight me?”

Slade’s brow quirks. “Those your deductive skills being put to work? ‘Cause I have to say, kid, you’re not much of a detective.”

“You tell me to stay away and yet you continue to antagonise me like the immature man-child you are beneath that eyepatch. Tell me what you want.”

Slade points a finger down at him. “Better learn some respect, boy. And watch your tone. The only person I see acting like a man-child is you, fussy and crying because you’re not getting the attention you want. Think Jason would want anyone like you?”

Shaking with anger, Dick takes a moment to collect himself lest he end up shrieking and letting Slade know exactly how emotionally compromised he is. “Come down here and face me like a man,” he snarls.

A cruel laugh echoes throughout the courtyard. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about this video. I’ll tell you if I sent it or not. Come on. _Describe_ it to me.”

“You threatened me so I’d leave you alone. But you sent it to me _deliberately_ to get a rise out of me. Kinda getting mixed signals here, Slade.”

Slade smiles. “Why are you so upset? Wouldn’t you want the complete collection? I’m afraid for you, kid. Losing your temper over a video, running all the way here and throwing a hissy fit _._ It’s a wonder you’re still alive, but at the same time, I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been stupidly reckless.”

“I _will_ come up there, Slade, don’t think I won’t.”

“Oh no, I believe you. The birdie wants so badly to prove himself to his little crush. Is he around? Makes little sense to stage a fight without him to bear witness.”

_“Enough—”_

“No, he isn’t. I would know. After all, he is quite attention-grabbing, as I’m sure you’d agree.” Slade smirks down at him, looking disgustingly smug and self-satisfied. “Also quite _loud_ _,_ though I suppose you wouldn’t have any firsthand experience with that. God, I can hear him still, whining like a _bitch_ in heat,” he spits. “I had him, right here, you know,” he adds, running his hands along the balcony railing.

“Shut up.”

“Came to visit one night, said he was feeling lonely. The smaller one just doesn’t quite satisfy him, you see, though he tries so hard.” Slade clicks his tongue. “Anyway, Jason gets very needy. He doesn’t show it much, but it’s all in the way he acts. Said he just wanted to see the place, kept going into all the rooms and touching everything. The kitchen, the bathroom… the bedroom…” He grins slowly.

Dick tenses, his jaw clenching. “Slade…” he warns.

“… but… the _balcony_ was his favourite. So you know what I did? I bent your little birdie over the railing, fucked my cock into him until he cried.” Slade chuckles. “I nearly dropped him, he was flailing around so much. Screamed like he was being killed.”

Dick’s hand twitches. He reaches for his grapple.

Slade grins. “But that’s how you know he loves it.”

The grapple shoots out and wraps around the railing of the balcony a few floors above Slade’s. He flies upwards and falls onto Slade in a flurry of fists.

They roll into the apartment together, and Slade grunts when his head gets knocked into a coffee table. Dick manages to catch Slade in the cheek, and he feels a sadistic grin break over his face when he feels the impact of his fist against the soft flesh of Slade’s face, a loud _thwack_ reverberating through the room.

They manage to smash through the glass balcony doors as they wrestle, but instead of going for one of the shards, Slade takes one of Dick’s arms behind his back and pulls.

There’s a great burst of pain, a _pop,_ and Dick knows that his shoulder has just been dislocated. He yells in agony, but the rush of adrenaline he gets allows him to throw Slade off and climb to his feet.

There’s no time to catch his breath—Slade comes at him again, and Dick gives him everything he’s got.

He gets his nose broken, as well as his foot, before the sound of glass shattering makes them both pause and look up just in time to see a gas grenade roll across the floor and go off. While Slade is coughing and hacking away, Bruce swoops in with a gas mask that he fits over Dick’s head.

He practically drags Dick away by the scruff of his neck, but Dick can’t find it in himself to be too embarrassed, especially when he sees the nasty cut across Slade’s cheek.

 _“What_ is your problem?” Bruce hisses at him back in the Cave.

“What,” Dick challenges, “are you suddenly cool with having Deathstroke slinking around Gotham?”

“I am not ‘cool’ with anything Deathstroke does, and I am especially not ‘cool’ with you seeking him out and attacking him on your own without any valid plan or reason.”

“I have my reasons, alright,” Dick mutters to himself, but Bruce hears him anyway, turning away from the sink where he’s left the bloodied medical supplies.

“And I can guess what those reasons may be,” Bruce says dryly, shoving a towel into Dick’s chest. “I can also tell you now that they are incredibly stupid reasons and continuing to act like this will only get you killed.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “I would have been fine.”

“Ha. Is that what you call this?”

Dick yelps when Bruce suddenly pops his shoulder back into place. He fights back the pained tears in his eyes, biting into his fist.

“You’ve lost all reason, Dick. That fight was needless and pathetic. I’m also not impressed at your attempt to blackmail me.”

Dick freezes, already having forgotten about his earlier threats. “I’m not going to send it,” he mutters.

“No, I didn’t think you would,” Bruce says, and Dick feels a lick of irritation at seeing him so smug about it. “Now, wash up. I assume you’d want to be presentable when Jason arrives.”

 _“Jason’s_ coming?” Dick very nearly shrieks. He slips off the medical table and hobbles towards the showers on his borrowed crutches.

“Jason’s coming,” Bruce confirms, and Dick can _feel_ the eye roll, “and, as far as I know, he isn’t aware of anything that’s happened today. However, I can’t promise that Slade hasn’t told him yet.”

“Oh, crap,” Dick whispers under his breath as he turns on the faucet and is hit directly in the chest with freezing cold water. “O—oh! F—fuck—”

His bandages end up getting soaked and needing to be reapplied, but instead of bothering Alfred who’s surely busy preparing dinner or further injuring his pride by crawling back to Bruce, he catches a ride home instead where he can fix himself up on his own in peace. Later on, when he’s laying in bed, they start ringing his phone and texting him, asking where he is. He just turns his phone on silent and turns to face the wall, figuring that they’ll forgive him for not answering. He does, after all, need time to recover.

***

He’s bedridden for a few days, barely managing to walk more than a few steps without collapsing in pain. He manages to walk to the front door to answer when the food delivery services arrive, hobbling back to his bedroom to eat his meals there while he watches movies on his computer.

He’s just gone through the entirety of a horror movie saga when he gets the most intrusive urge to plug in his hard drive and take a look at the videos he never got around to watching.

He pushes the thought away because he’s still recovering from a freaking fight with Slade set off by a video very much like the ones on the hard drive. Watching one now is just asking for more trouble.

And yet.

He looks down at the innocuous, little black box sitting on his desk.

It has been a long while since he’s jerked off to anything other than his imagination.

Maybe if he watches _one_ video, a _safe_ one, one that isn’t going to set him off again. Maybe one with Roy or Kory or _both_ of them. There must be a video of them in Jason’s collection, right? They can’t _all_ be people Dick hates.

After a couple moments of deliberation, he murmurs, “Fuck it,” and plugs in his hard drive, hunching forward in his chair as he stares at the screen.

He had only briefly glanced over the files when he downloaded them from Jason’s computer, and as he scrutinises each thumbnail now, he realises that maybe there _isn’t_ another video with them.

There _is,_ however, a thumbnail showing Jason and a man wearing a blue suit and a red cape, and Dick very much doesn’t want to think about _Clark_ of all people messing around with Jason, so he scrolls way down so it’s off the screen.

He definitely skips over the one with a thumbnail showing a man wearing a mask over his head, with a suspiciously wide body that looks too big to be simply juiced up with roids.

He mouses over a video he’s sure is of Jason and Tim. It looks like Tim is sitting in an armchair, fully clothed, with a naked Jason kneeling at his feet.

Dick clenches his teeth, considering.

“Oh, fuck it. Fuck it,” he mutters. Seems to be the theme of tonight.

He clicks twice and the video begins to play.

Tim is lounging back in the chair, wearing what Dick now realises is his work clothes: pressed white shirt, slacks, and tie. He has one hand stroking through Jason’s hair, the other holding his phone which he’s holding up to Jason’s face, probably recording his own video.

He looks almost bored, barely making a sound save for when he leans down to murmur things in Jason’s ear that the microphone doesn’t pick up.

Jason is sitting ramrod straight on the ground, head tilted upwards. His back is to the camera, so Dick can’t see his face.

He can see Tim’s however, and when he leans back, a smile has broken through the stone mask he was wearing, but it isn’t a particularly nice smile.

Dick’s stomach turns.

Tim sinks his back into the armchair, all the while wearing that smug look on his face. Jason leans down, over his crotch, and Dick exhales slowly when he realises that he’s been holding his breath for the past minute.

“Enough,” Tim says loud enough to come through his speakers. “you’ll ruin my pants.” He pushes Jason’s head away from his crotch. “Unzip me.”

Dick tenses up again, and he feels his heartbeat speed up when, instead of reaching for Tim’s zipper, he leans down again between Tim’s legs.

“Good,” Tim says. He reaches down to unbutton his pants, then lifts his hips off the chair slightly to push his pants down just enough so he can take his dick out. “Get me hard. Don’t use your hands.”

“What the hell,” Dick whispers. He feels indescribably awkward seeing Tim like this. He’s known Tim since he was a small, quiet thirteen-year-old who was still so shy and cute around him and Bruce. Dick still thinks of him as his little brother. So seeing him boss Jason around and prepare to fuck his mouth is really messing with his worldview.

Especially when, from some of the lines he’s spewing, it seems like Tim’s been taking pointers from _Black Mask_ of all people.

The loud and wet sounds of Jason swallowing Tim’s dick down suddenly fill the air, along with the image of Jason bobbing his head up and down while Tim’s eyes roll back in his head.

Dick can’t get off to this. Not only is Tim making _O_ faces on the screen, but he can’t even see Jason’s face, only his back. And though it is a very nice back, Dick _needs_ to see his face, he _needs_ to know that Jason is enjoying this.

He closes the video and sighs, leaning forwards to rest his forehead on his arm.

Well. If there aren’t any videos that he can get off to, and if there isn’t anything else to do, might as well finish the video that was sent to him anonymously.

He opens up his inbox, taking a moment to collect himself before he watches it. The first few seconds sent him into a rage. Watching the whole video… Christ, he’s a glutton for punishment, isn’t he?

But this is Jason, he reasons. The least he can do is make sure that he isn’t being hurt too much in these encounters.

“Fuck it,” he says once again as he presses play.

Jason is with Slade, and again they’re naked together in a bed. Except this isn’t a normal hotel bed, no. It’s a giant four poster bed with dramatic red and gold sheets, and gold candelabras on both bedside tables.

And, of course, one of the men with wealth and gaudiness enough to indulge such tacky tastes is none other than the Black Mask himself.

He’s fully dressed, a fact that Dick would find absolutely hilarious if it weren’t for the context.

Jason is being held down and fucked, arms behind his back as Slade shoves him up and down the bed like a toy. Something is in his mouth—a sock or some other piece of clothing haphazardly shoved in as a makeshift gag, muffling his cries.

Roman is knelt at his side, seemingly content just to watch, except when he reaches down between Jason’s legs and does something that makes him yelp and attempt to wiggle away.

“Hey,” Slade says reproachfully. “I don’t know how you usually do things, but I know your rep, and when I’m here, I don’t wanna see it.”

It was at this point Dick stopped the video, the implications of there being forty more minutes not something he could quite stomach.

He continues on now, telling himself he can get through it. For Jason.

“Fine,” Roman says, snippy. “Shame. He does squeal so well.”

He moves around the bed in front of Jason, unzips himself and yanks the gag out of Jason’s mouth, shoving himself in instead.

After that, Jason is shoved and toyed with between the two men. Roman thankfully doesn’t try to make Jason deepthroat him, which would be difficult anyway considering Slade hasn’t let up on fucking him. Slade does shift his grip around Jason’s arms though, letting go of one and leaving the other hand resting on his back, intertwining his fingers in Jason’s.

It’s unexpected. It’s intimate, and the sight of it infuriates Dick more than anything else happening on screen.

Acting sweet occasionally is probably how Slade keeps Jason around—pretending he’s a nice guy under all of _that_ instead of the monster he really is—and Dick _knows_ how Slade really is because he’s been around him for longer, _much_ longer than Jason and he _knows_ better, so _why_ is Jason—

Fuck. He knows better than Jason, so he should’ve protected him better. He should’ve been the wise and experienced predecessor, the big brother guiding Jason away from dangers.

Instead, he let people like Slade and Roman get their grimy hands on him. People like the J—

No, that’s a line of thought he’d killed years ago, something he’d already come to terms with, but he can’t help but draw the parallels.

He tunes out after that, unable to hear much anyway over the pounding in his ears.

He realises he’s been missing much of the video when Slade speaks, his voice a jarring sound above the noise of sex.

“Why are you so loose, huh?” he says. “Been whoring yourself out lately?”

Roman pulls out momentarily to let him respond, but Jason just shakes his head.

“Then why aren’t you tight anymore?”

“‘Cause—‘cause you make me feel good.”

“I make you feel good? Then tighten up that pussy so I can fuck it properly.”

Jason’s face scrunches up in concentration, and Slade stops to let Jason fuck himself on his dick. He goes slow, and Roman strokes his gloved fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging.

After a while, Slade slaps Jason’s thigh and sighs. “Ah, it‘s no use. You’re used goods now.”

Before Jason—and Dick—have any time to get upset at that, Roman squeezes in with, “I got an idea. Make him feel good as new.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Jason, get up. Turn around.”

Roman directs them into a new position with Slade lying back on the bed, and Jason on his hands and knees over him. Jason lets himself be guided onto Slade’s dick again, sitting back automatically in his lap.

“No, Jason,” Slade says, having caught on to Roman’s plan. “Lean forward, baby, so he can reach.”

Jason freezes. “We’ve never done this before.”

“You bring us both here and expect us not to fuck you properly?”

He seems to warm up to the idea quickly enough, leaning forward so he can tilt his hips up. “Don’t get too crazy back there, Mask,” he mutters, earning a smack on the ass.

“Awfully mouthy lately, baby,” Roman says as he reaches down to prepare him, pressing a finger into his already-stuffed hole.

Dick’s jaw is clenched so hard his teeth are starting to ache. He should stop watching but he can’t look away.

When Roman deems Jason ready, they all pause to let him try and squeeze himself into Jason. It takes a few attempts, and Dick’s nails are starting to scratch lines into the wood of his desk, but he eventually slides all the way in.

There’s a long moment where they all try and get used to the position, Jason silent as he adjusts to the stretch.

Roman doesn’t give much warning at all before he pulls out slightly and thrusts in, forcing a groan out of Jason’s lips.

Slade hisses and strokes his side. “You alright?”

Jason’s head drops down onto Slade’s shoulder. “M’okay,” he says, muffled.

“It hurts?”

Jason shakes his head. “No, Sl—daddy. It feels good.”

Dick shuts his eyes and attempts to slow his breathing, doing his best to ignore his heart pounding in his chest.

He was wrong. He was so, so wrong. He cannot finish this video.

Except the stubbornness in him—or perhaps the side seeking self-punishment—wants him to go on.

So he forces himself to continue.

Roman somehow manages to look smug even with his face the way it is, and though Slade isn’t doing much but laying there and letting Roman do all the work, he looks flushed, his skin a striking red against the white of his hair. His one eye never leaves Jason’s face, and Dick just now notices their hands held together by their sides, fingers again tangled together.

Jason is overwhelmed, gasping at Roman’s shallow thrusts, and moaning into Slade’s neck when Roman starts thrusting harder, the slap of skin on skin ringing throughout the room.

Minutes pass, Dick finds himself continuously tuning out before he catches himself again. He’s finding it hard to pay attention when the only thing he feels is blind rage.

Eventually Roman groans, pulling out and coming all over Jason’s ass before giving it a slap and zipping himself up again before getting off the bed.

Just the two of them now, Slade flips Jason onto his back, Jason automatically hitching his legs up around Slade’s waist, and Slade fucks them both to completion.

Their hands stay intertwined the entire time.

The image burns itself into his memory.

The thing is, that video ends up being the straw to break the camel’s back. Once he watches it, he thinks about the hard drive full of videos like it and thinks, _fuck it, I’ve already watched Deathstroke and Black Mask having sex with Jason twice, how much worse can it get?_

He ignores every thought telling him _no_ and watches a few more videos after that—there are a few with people that Dick doesn’t recognise—civilians who, Dick supposes, pose little threat to Jason’s wellbeing, but Dick can’t help disliking anyway when he sees how they treat Jason in bed.

There’s a video of Jason riding one of them, Dick doesn’t like the way his partner doesn’t let up—or the way he keeps laying hard smacks down on Jason’s ass and sides even as his cries get louder.

Another one depicts Jason on his knees and literally _choking_ on a cock as it is thrust forcefully and rapidly down his throat. Dick is sure that the sounds from that video will haunt him for months.

He groans in frustration and presses his palms into his eyes. He can hear the next video automatically beginning to play, and he goes to close the window, blinking away the light patterns in his eyes, when he freezes.

Jason is looking back at him from the screen, his blue-green eyes bright and piercing as they stare directly into the lens.

He’s entirely naked, and he’s lying back against his headboard, a number of pillows propped up behind his back.

He lets out a long sigh, his pale, bare chest rising and falling, and Dick’s eyes fall to his lips. Pink, wet, and soft.

There’s no one talking, no one else around him. Just Jason.

Dick’s heart is pounding in his ears.

Jason slowly reaches up to his own chest, cupping his pec as he thumbs gently at his nipple. Dick watches, unmoving, as the little bud quickly hardens and Jason takes it between his thumb and forefinger and begins pinching at it.

There’s a quick intake of breath, with Jason’s cheeks slowly going pink as he avoids looking directly at the camera now.

Letting go, Jason scoots a little downwards, making himself more comfortable, then takes hold of his dick.

He’s semi-hard, and when he begins stroking himself his dick responds very quickly, filling out and curving upwards in his hand.

Dick makes a little disbelieving noise. Buried under all those other videos, all those other terrible scenes with terrible people was _this._

Maybe his bad luck is running out.

He certainly feels that way when Jason shifts again, bending his legs so that he can reach down with his other hand and run a finger over his hole. A small gasp comes out of his mouth as he twitches, legs tensing up for a moment before he relaxes again.

He reaches for the lube beside him, uncapping it and squirting some on his fingers. When he reaches down again, he slides two fingers inside, and Dick stares, mesmerised, as Jason thumps his head back and lets his mouth fall open.

“Oh my god,” Dick whispers. He unbuttons his own pants and pulls out his dick, finally feeling some form of arousal that isn’t tainted with shame or anger, stroking himself slowly as Jason fingers himself on screen.

“Mmm,” Jason hums, biting his lip, hips twitching.

His face twists up in concentration as he continues fingering himself and stroking himself at the same time. His entire chest is flushed now along with his cheeks, and Dick would give anything to be able to kiss his rosy skin, to whisper in his ear, to tell him how _beautiful_ he looks, how gorgeous.

Because he _is_ gorgeous, no matter what he does. Even when he’s having sex with some of the most repulsive men in Gotham, even when he’s kneeling in front of someone else, he’s still the most gorgeous thing to grace the earth. And that _kills_ Dick. That Jason’s out there, being the beautiful human being he is, and none of the people he’s with can properly appreciate that.

Jason slips in a third finger, moaning softly at the addition.

He begins thrusting up into his own hand, flicking his wrist on every upward stroke, and Dick sees the glistening precome gathering at the tip.

He’s fucking himself on his own fingers as well, hips making little jerking motions, and the feeling must be overwhelming because he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a choked little, “A—ah!— _more,”_ as he rapidly thrusts his fingers in and out.

 _More?_ Dick realises then that Jason must be fantasising something in his head, begging whoever it is he’s imagining to give him what he wants. Dick feels a little ridiculous surge of jealousy at whoever it may be.

He matches pace with Jason, stroking himself faster now too, sensing that Jason might be close. He wants to come with Jason. He may not be able to do it in real life, but he’ll take any form he can get.

He squeezes his dick hard, imagining that it’s Jason around him, his beautiful body squeezing tight around Dick, about to come because _Dick_ is making him come.

“Jason,” he chokes out at the image he’s painted in his mind, of Jason looking up at him through long, black lashes, nothing but pure lust in his eyes. _“Jason.”_

He isn’t expecting the next part to happen, so when it does, his heart stops and he doesn’t breathe for a good moment, the only motion coming from Jason on the screen.

 _“Dick,”_ Jason whimpers, his whole body tensing before he releases, his hips jerking wildly, stuttering gasps escaping his lips, painting his chest white as he comes.

Dick stares in shock at the screen, disbelieving. His hand leaves his dick as he reaches for the keyboard and goes back a few seconds before.

That wasn’t real—that _can’t_ be real—

 _“Dick,”_ Jason says, the word soft but clear on his lips.

“Oh,” Dick says. “Oh.”

He goes back again and listens to the sound of his name on Jason’s tongue, the hitch of his breath immediately afterwards, the little whine that escapes his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Dick reaches for his cock again, stroking himself fast and hard, and it only takes a couple moments before he’s coming to a loop of Jason gasping his name.

He goes to bed soon after that, incredibly tired from the stress of watching the videos save for that last one, which only serves to make his chest feel full and warm, and he falls asleep clinging onto his newfound hope.

***

A knock on his door in the evening startles him out of wearily staring into his fridge. He only got a few hours of sleep last night, and he had a lot of work to do today, as he had to catch up on everything that happened while he was out of commission, so it takes him a long while to get to the door, too tired to gather up the mental energy to deal with seeing anyone right now. Seeing who’s outside wakes him right up however.

“Jason?” he exclaims, heart leaping into his throat.

Jason doesn’t say a word, though Dick can’t describe the glare on his face as anything less than murderous. He advances forward, and Dick automatically steps back. Jason, apparently satisfied that Dick isn’t going to shove him out, shuts the door behind him.

“Give me,” he starts, low, _“one_ good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

Dick is utterly confused, but he figures whatever’s got Jason angry, he deserves his ire. “Before you start killing anybody, at least give me the chance to change out of my pyjamas,” he jokes, hands up.

“This isn’t _funny, Dick.”_

“Then tell me what this is about.”

Jason scoffs. “Should I give you a _list?”_

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, mentally smacking himself because that’s probably what he should’ve started off with. “I deserve your anger, all of it. But I can’t say I regret any of it.”

Jason growls. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me? You break into Roman’s place and destroy his fuckin’ shit for _what?_ ‘Cause you’re _jealous?_ You piece of—”

“Whoa—whoa, hey, okay,” Dick cuts in, because he knows he definitely didn’t do _this._ “This is not what I was expecting, but I promise you, I had nothing to do with it, alright?”

“Oh, don’t fucking lie,” Jason says, laughing bitterly. “If I lose this, if Roman cuts me off because of you, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“No, hey, alright,” Dick says quickly, unable to get past _that_ issue fast enough. “What did Roman say exactly?”

“He didn’t have to say shit, he was _pissed._ If you wanted to scare him, you shoulda thought of something better—”

“Except I didn’t try to scare him. I’ve never been anywhere _near_ his place. I’ll admit to the other things, with Slade and your videos, but not this. He’s got CCTV, right? Huge place like that, he has to. I’m sure if you waited to check his cameras, you’d see.”

Jason looks hesitant.

“Did you… check the cameras?”

“No.” He seems to deflate.

“…Jay?” he says.

After losing his anger, he suddenly looks uncharacteristically small, lost, like he isn’t quite sure what he’s doing in Dick’s apartment anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions—”

“It’s okay,” Dick says gently, reaching for him before remembering himself and letting his hands fall lamely to his sides again. “I can see why I’d be your first suspect.”

Jason shakes his head, a sad, small smile momentarily gracing his lips. “Slade isn’t even angry about what you did. Just said he thinks you’re a dumbass that doesn’t know when to quit.”

Dick’s jaw clenches. “If you’d heard the things he was saying—”

“I know what he says,” Jason snaps. He walks over to the kitchen and plops down on one of the stools. “You’re never gonna _get_ it, are you? I told you before, I _like_ that shit. I like what they do and say to me, I wouldn’t keep going back to ‘em if I didn’t.”

Dick pushes his bowl of yoghurt closer to him. “Want some?”

“No,” Jason says, pushing it back. “I ate already.”

“Want some chips?”

“No, I don’t want—” He sighs, long and deep. “Dick. You know this will never happen, right?”

Dick turns away, unable to keep the hurt from showing on his face. He occupies himself with tidying up his cereal cabinet, putting the box on the counter away.

“Dick…”

“What do you want me to say?” He stops and slams the cabinet shut, his frustration building. “That I’ll just stop feeling the way I feel for you? That I’ll just give us up, our relationship?”

 _“What_ relationship?”

A startled, hurt laugh bursts from his lips. “It may not mean anything to you, but we were brothers once. Friends. I still care for you, and I’d do anything to keep you out of harm’s way.”

 _“Brothers_ don’t want what you want—”

Dick scoffs. “Tell that to Tim. Tell that to Bruce. Tell that to _everyone_ else who should be protecting you—”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

“No. It’s different.”

 _“You’re_ different, you mean?” Jason gives a mocking laugh. “You’re better than all of them, are you?”

Dick shrugs. “Maybe I am.”

The feet of the stool squeak across the floor as Jason pushes away from the counter.

“Talking to you is fucking pointless,” he says dismissively, heading for the door.

“Wait,” he says, following quickly behind. Before Jason can leave, Dick grabs his arm.

Jason’s reaction is immediate—he snaps around and hisses, _“Let go.”_

“Wait, give me one second—”

“You’ve had plenty—”

“Just let me try—”

Jason jerks his arm out of Dick’s grip and shoves him away, his breath short. “I’ve given you so many chances to try and act like a decent human being, Dick, but I’ve been disappointed every single time.” Dick can’t look away from his eyes, dark and hurt. “I’m not gonna let you keep doing this.”

“Please. One more chance.”

“And then another after that? And another?”

“Just one,” Dick insists. “Then you can sic Slade on me if I try anything again.”

When Jason says nothing after that, Dick expects him to just give up and leave. He isn’t expecting Jason to heave a sigh and say, “One, then. One last chance.”

The resigned way he says it makes Dick laugh. Jason glares.

“Sorry,” he says, unable to stop smiling. “It’s just… you’re so cute.”

Jason makes a disgusted noise, pushing Dick away. “I don’t know what to do with you, Grayson,” he says in a sigh, running a hand over his face.

“Anything you want,” Dick answers easily.

“You say that, but you don’t listen. You go after Bruce when I tell you not to, you go after Slade. And look what happened to you after that.”

“I got my just deserts though, right? Learned my lesson.”

“You got yourself _hurt,_ dumbass,” Jason says. “And you would’ve gotten yourself killed if Slade didn’t take pity on your sorry ass.”

“You were worried for me,” Dick says, surprised.

“Of course, I’m not a monster,” he says, scowling. Then when he shakes his head, his expression softens. “Get some rest, dickhead. I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“Before you leave—I have to ask.” He bites his lip, wondering if this is really something he should bring up now. He figures the worst that could happen is Jason denying it, and decides to go ahead. “I copied your videos from your computer.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know that.”

“There was one video, you were alone in it, and… and you said something.”

Jason shrugs. “Yeah, what? I say a lot of things.”

Dick shakes his head. “No, you… you said my name.” He sees Jason freeze, but he keeps going. “You said my name. Just my name. Nothing else. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

The ensuing silence from Jason is very telling.

“I mean, did you—did you not realise it or—?”

Jason’s eyes are looking everywhere except Dick’s face, and he looks panicked, like he’s about to bolt. “It—it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“If it means anything,” Dick takes a deep breath, “I feel the same way about you.”

It goes quiet, the only sounds the uneven breaths between them and Dick’s heart pounding hard, begging to be heard.

“I mean, you already know how I feel. But I wasn’t expecting you to—”

“Shut up!” Jason hisses, and Dick startles.

“What—”

“So you heard me saying your name in a fuckin’ video— _so what._ Doesn’t fuckin’ _mean_ anything. Maybe I was thinkin’ about ya when I jacked off—fuck, who doesn’t?”

“Jason—”

“Ignore that,” Jason says quickly, and Dick watches, enraptured, as his cheeks grow pink. He’s flustered, Dick notices his accent growing thicker as he rambles.

“Jay, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“Oh, so _now_ I get a choice.”

“You’ve always had a choice. I just really, _really_ want you to choose me.”

Jason rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He turns away, running his hands through his hair. “Everything’s so confusing with you,” he mumbles. “I don’t wanna fuckin’ change anything if it’ll only make this worse.”

“Nothing’s gonna get _worse,_ Jay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Try me.”

Jason looks up at the challenge, narrowing his eyes.

“Look, you find me attractive, right?”

“Didn’ I jus’ say that?”

“So you’d have sex with me.”

“Again, tha’s a fuckin’ given.”

Dick steps close, close enough he can smell Jason’s natural scent, and he smiles at Jason’s throat bobbing up and down as he swallows. “So why don’t we?” He runs his hand up Jason’s jacket and tucks it underneath, pressing his palm against his chest to feel his racing heart. “Just tonight.”

When Jason goes to move, Dick accidentally brushes against his nipple, and Dick feels and hears the tiniest hitch in Jason’s breath.

They stare at each other.

“You’re gonna look fuckin’ ridiculous tryna act sexy with yoghurt on ya face,” Jason tells him, gently pushing his hand away.

He frowns, wiping at his mouth. “Why didn’t you—” he straightens up. “Is that a yes?”

Jason exhales sharply. “S’a fuckin’ terrible idea.”

Dick chances a risk, stepping closer into Jason’s space. He looks up at him through his lashes. “So it’s a yes?”

Jason clenches his jaw. “Yeah. Maybe. Don’t expect it to mean anything.”

Dick huffs, stepping away. “Cold.”

“Told ya, don’t expect it to mean anything. Stop puttin’ your heart on the line for someone who’s not gonna reciprocate.”

 _Who did that to you?_ He wants to ask. It’d be taken the wrong way, of course, but Jason’s obviously speaking from experience, and he doesn’t like the thought of his little wing’s feelings being spurned by anyone.

“Well?” Jason says, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Dick hesitates, his thoughts suddenly racing back to the initial confrontation with Slade. “I’m not coercing you into this, am I?”

“The fuck—what the fuck do you think?”

“Jason, if this is just because you want me to leave you alone—”

“Hohoho, tryna cover all your bases, asshole? Calm the fuck down, I don’t have sex with people I don’t think I could take in a fight.”

Dick rolls his eyes, but he’s somewhat relieved, even though that didn't really answer his question at all. “That’s encouraging.”

“Shut up. We gonna fuck or what?”

Dick narrows his eyes at him. “I’m not gonna be rough with you, and I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re acting bratty like you want to be punished, but I’m not doing that.”

“And that’s fine,” Jason says. “Boring vanilla sex is your thing, I get it.”

“Ugh, come on.” Dick takes Jason’s hand in his own as he leads him to the bedroom. Jason doesn’t protest, and Dick feels a little swoop in his gut when he realises. Jason’s hand feels warm, big, and slightly sweaty—out of nerves? Excitement? He isn’t sure, but honestly, he’s feeling incredibly nervous, he wouldn’t be surprised if Jason is too.

He sits on the end of his bed, patting the space next to him. Jason sits as well, and the mattress dips with his weight.

He pauses to take it in.

Jason. On his bed. Looking up at him expectantly with those pretty blue-green eyes. God, he wants to do everything with him. But instead, he starts small. With a kiss. He brings Jason’s hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back.

Jason stares at him for a good moment then bursts out in laughter, the corners of his eyes turning up in genuine amusement.

“What?”

Jason shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Kissing your hand is ridiculous?”

“In this year, yeah, it is.”

“Well, maybe I should kiss something else then.”

“If that’s you saying you’re gonna suck my dick, please go ahead.”

“Shush,” Dick hushes him again. “Can I kiss you?”

“You already have.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jason rolls his eyes, but his lips are quirked ever so slightly up at the corners. “Go ahead.”

It takes everything he has not to let a crazy grin burst out onto his face and freak Jason out. He plants a hand on the bed next to Jason, then leans in close until he can feel Jason’s breath on his lips. Jason shuts his eyes, waiting. Dick stays there, studying Jason’s face up close, counting the freckles dotted across his nose and cheeks, feeling himself being pulled in by the lush, inviting softness of his lips.

He licks his own lips, then leans in, pressing a soft peck to the middle of Jason’s lips. He does it again, and again, then licks at Jason’s bottom lip until his mouth opens, then he feels Jason sucking gently at his tongue. He presses deeper in, at the same time he pushes at Jason’s chest until he lies back on the bed, and Jason lets out a soft, high moan that he wants to swallow up with his tongue.

“Good?” he asks, taking a break from kissing Jason’s lips to kiss his throat instead, running his fingers through Jason’s tousled hair.

“You haven’t done anything yet,” Jason says, and Dick nips at his skin in retaliation.

“Not what I meant. I mean, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jason says, almost snappily.

“Come on, Jay.” He runs his hands down Jason’s shirt, then under, pressing his fingers to the sides of his waist. “Team effort. You gotta tell me when I’m doing something you don’t like.”

“There’s not a whole lot I don’t like.”

Dick purses his lips. “Then tell me when I’m doing something you _do_ like,” he amends, “and I’ll do it ten times better.”

He climbs off the bed, reaching down to undo Jason’s laces and slide his shoes and socks off. He presses a kiss to Jason’s ankle, and Jason lifts his head off the bed, looking down at Dick with a confused look on his face. He doesn’t say anything though, not even when Dick takes his other foot and kisses that one too.

Grinning slightly to himself, he pulls Jason’s legs, and Jason yelps in surprise as he is dragged down the bed. Dick dodges the kick Jason aims at him, then goes to undo his belt.

Jason watches him all the while, his chest rising and falling slowly, his breaths almost measured.

Once he’s got Jason’s belt off, he undoes Jason’s pants as well and slides them off, throwing them to the side. He reaches for Jason’s briefs next, but Jason stops him, hands around Dick’s wrists.

“Wait,” he says, and Dick stills completely. “You too?” He gestures at Dick’s clothed self.

Dick shakes his head. “This is about you.”

Jason furrows his brows. “But I thought—”

“It’s okay,” Dick tells him, “I want to make you feel good.”

Jason lets go of him, and Dick goes for his underwear again, digging his fingers into the band and pulling them slowly down his thighs. Jason’s dick, semi-hard and perfect, pops out, and Dick is struck by the inherent eroticism of Jason being dressed only in a loose t-shirt, his dick and toned legs on display underneath.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then crawls back onto the bed, over Jason, leaning down to kiss his mouth again, pulling Jason’s shirt up until it’s bunched up around his chest. When he pulls away, Jason’s cheeks are slightly flushed, the usual pale of his skin now an adorable rosy pink.

“Good?” he asks again, grinning.

“Told you, I’m fine,” Jason answers, a scowl coming across his features.

“Mmm, maybe I meant it the other way this time,” Dick says, scooting backwards until he’s at the foot of the bed again, hovering over Jason’s pelvis.

“Shut up,” he snaps, and Dick snorts at him. “If you’re not going to do anything, you should say so and let me go home.”

“Patience,” Dick tells him. “I noticed you getting snappy with Roy too, but let me tell you—there’s a lot of value in taking things slow.” He pulls down Jason’s underwear slowly until they’re hanging off one leg. “Savouring every second,” he pitches his voice low, almost to a whisper. “Savouring every inch.”

He pops the head of Jason’s cock into his mouth, feeling the muscles in Jason’s thighs tense under his hands.

“There’s nothing special about a blowjob, Dick,” Jason’s voice insists above him, and when Dick looks up to meet his eyes he adds, “not even one from someone as pretty as you.”

Dick slides off, replacing his mouth with his hand, stroking slowly. “It doesn’t have to be special, it just has to feel good.”

Jason raises his brows. “Really? _The_ Dick Grayson, seducer of all women, who is also one pointy tail away from being an incubus, says it doesn’t have to be _special?”_

“You’re talking an awful lot for someone with his dick in someone else’s hand. Nervous, are we?”

Jason smiles. “I’m impatient. I’m not used to this.” His smile, however, is a little shaky, and Dick lightens up on his teasing.

“Relax,” Dick orders him, petting his thigh. “We have all night. I plan to keep you here for a while.”

“Golly gee, Dick, I got shit to do.”

“And I’ll let you get back to them,” Dick answers, giving him another sharp tug down the bed, “tomorrow. Or in a few days.” He shrugs. “Depends on how fast you recover.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “Thought you weren’t gonna hurt me.”

“Not in the way you think.”

Before Jason can say anything, Dick puts his mouth on him again. He can’t reach all the way down, but he strokes what he can’t reach with his hand.

At one point he moves his hand between Jason’s legs and runs the pad of his thumb over the small bit of raised flesh. Jason reacts with his whole body, tensing and moving away, but pressing back into the touch in the next second.

“Nnn— _Dick,”_ he moans.

Dick continues rubbing circles until Jason reaches for his bedside table, hand foraging through the drawer until he pulls out a bottle of lube and hands it to Dick.

Dick takes it and slicks his finger up, pressing it slowly into Jason. He watches Jason intently, studying every tiny reaction as he massages him inside. When he presses another finger in, Jason’s hand flies to Dick’s head, resting on the back as if telling him not to stop.

 _“More,”_ he demands. Dick can’t deny him anything.

He presses his fingers in faster, sucks a little harder, and lets the sound of Jason fill his ears like his favourite song. But as much as Dick loves to hear him moan, he’s much more interested in the way Jason’s fingers twist in his hair, holding his head close and not letting go, his grip tightening every time Dick swirls his tongue around the shaft while it’s in his mouth.

 _“Dick.”_ The word is light, pushed out into the air from exhausted lungs.

Dick shivers, delicious tremors running down his spine, across his skull where Jason’s pulling at his hair.

Soon, without any indication he was building up to it, Jason tenses up. He pulls hard at Dick’s hair and says, _“M’coming,”_ and Dick pulls off to watch him, hips twitching, lips parted invitingly as his breathing stutters, emptying himself onto his rolling abs. Dick takes the invitation, climbing up the bed to kiss him.

It’s sweet. It’s slow, too slow until Dick swipes his tongue over Jason’s bottom lip and Jason opens up obediently under him, his lips coming apart with a soft sigh. Dick feels Jason’s breath brush over the saliva on his own lips, and they tingle with sensation. He presses in again, harder now, catching Jason’s lip in between his teeth.

“Dick, _Dick_ _,”_ Jason is saying, whenever he can, because Dick keeps claiming his mouth and he doesn’t ever want to _stop_ _._ “Dick, _please.”_ And Dick feels Jason’s hands trembling where they are on Dick’s chest.

He leans back, though it pains him to part from the beautiful being underneath him. “What do you want, Jay?”

Jason is staring, his eyes hooded and dark, his lips shiny and red. Slowly he moves his hand down Dick’s chest, fingers trailing over his stomach, past Dick’s navel, coming down to cup Dick through his pants unashamedly.

“No,” Dick says.

Jason retracts his hand as if he’s been burned. His eyes go shocked and wide. “No?”

“Not yet, Jay. Why not savour this? Take it slow…” He puts one hand over Jason’s heart, then starts rubbing his right nipple through his shirt with his thumb. It hardens quickly under his touch, and the little nub rises so it’s visible through the thin material.

“Dick…” Jason stares at him, lips parted in surprise, and Dick feels his heart beat faster under his palm.

“You like that, Jay?” he teases, continuing to rub at his nipple. He uses his index finger and thumb to _pinch_ and Jason’s breathing stutters. “Sensitive?”

“Y—yeah,” Jason breathes, eyes on his own chest now, on Dick’s fingers playing with him. _“More.”_

He can’t help the crooked smile that grows on his face at hearing the word. He rucks up Jason’s shirt, pushing it up and leaving it tucked under his armpits, only bothering to expose the important parts. He leans down, circles a nipple with his tongue, and blows.

Jason jolts, pecs jumping, giving a breathy little gasp at the same time. Dick laughs at his reaction. It’s so adorable how sensitive he is, even though he knows Jason’s body gets used in every single way too often than is good for him. It’s a wonder he isn’t desensitised yet.

He gives a lick to the other nipple and huffs on that as well, eyes on Jason the whole time, greedily soaking up every reaction, revelling in the way he affects Jason so much.

Jason gets squirmish, and he pushes Dick away to pull his shirt off entirely, throwing it to the side. Dick takes his own shirt off too, and huffs a laugh when Jason eagerly reaches for his pants. He starts pulling them down his thighs along with his briefs and struggles when Dick does nothing to help. He glares up at him.

Dick laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of his nose.

“Sorry, little wing,” he says, pulling them off for him.

Jason’s eyes go wide, and he turns his face away. “That’s an old one,” he says softly, and Dick pauses. He hadn’t realised he’d just been calling him by the old pet name in his head.

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

Jason purses his lips. “I don’t _hate_ it.”

He reaches for something else from his bedside drawer—a condom packet. He throws it to Dick, who lets it hit his chest and fall into his hand.

“Well?” he says when Dick doesn’t move. “Ain’t got all night.”

Dick snorts softly, tearing open the packet and rolling it on. He slicks himself up too, just in case the prep he did for Jason isn’t enough. Jason goes quiet suddenly, and when Dick looks up, Jason looks away, swallowing.

“It’s okay, Jay,” he says gently. “We don’t have to do this.”

“It’s not that,” he says, but doesn’t say anything further.

Dick stares at him a moment longer, wondering what’s going on inside his head. He strokes at Jason’s thighs, gently urging him to bend his legs. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to do this?”

Jason stays quiet, shaking his head once.

Dick kisses Jason’s knee, looking up at him through his bangs. “For a long, long time, little wing. Longer than I should’ve.”

Jason takes a quiet breath, and Dick’s close enough he can hear it shake. He nudges Dick with his foot. “C’mon, Dick. Don’t make me beg.”

“Never,” he promises. He presses closer, and when he starts guiding himself in, Jason inhales sharply.

He stops. “You okay?”

Jason shakes his head as if shaking the nerves away and huffs. “You’ve seen what I can take, what do you think?”

Dick frowns. “I still need to check.”

Jason sighs, but lets go of the tension in his jaw. “I’m okay. I’ll tell you if I’m not.”

Dick nods, getting back to the task at hand. He pushes his cock against Jason’s hole, then rubs it up and down his crack through the slick, before finally pushing in. Jason’s face betrays nothing, save for the way his lips part when Dick bottoms out.

Dick, on the other hand, might be losing his mind. Jason is the most beautiful person he’s ever had in his bed, and after months— _years_ —of pining from afar he finally has him _here,_ underneath him, _around_ him. But he doesn’t feel how Dick imagined he would—no, he feels so much better.

 _“Perfect,”_ he whispers, and when Jason looks up at the word, Dick says it again. “You’re perfect.”

There’s a strange mix of emotions in Jason’s eyes, and though Dick can’t pinpoint what they are exactly, he knows expectancy when he sees it.

He shifts, placing himself a little more under Jason, supporting his weight with his thighs, and when he thrusts, a soft _“oh”_ escapes Jason’s lips, and he clenches tighter around Dick.

“Oh,” he gasps. _“Oh.”_

Dick snaps his hips at the sound, grabbing Jason around the waist so he can better manoeuvre him onto his cock.

He prides himself on his self-control during sex though, so when he gives a hard buck inside Jason, feeling a burst of pleasure that tempts him to continue drilling relentlessly into him, he pulls himself back, the urge to take this slow and savour every second winning out over his mindless lust.

At certain moments Jason grabs onto Dick’s arm hard, staring at him with his mouth agape and eyes pleading like he wants to ask him to go faster, but Dick gives it to him slow and deep for what feels like hours, and eventually Jason gives up, falling back on the bed and letting himself enjoy the ride.

And he _is_ enjoying it, Dick hasn’t noticed it before, but Jason’s cock is dribbling precome, more being pushed out with every thrust, and it’s pooling on his abs and in his belly button.

He’s never seen Jason do it with anyone else, and the possessiveness inside of Dick thrums happily at the thought. _It’s all because of him,_ he wants to boast. No one else. Just him.

He groans, a quiet, shaky _“fuck”_ slipping off his lips at the thought.

Jason is _his._

He’s looking up at the ceiling, looking completely lost and overwhelmed, but Dick wants—no _needs_ Jason to look at him. He reaches up to touch his face and says, “Jay.”

He looks away from the ceiling, finally, meeting eyes with Dick, and—oh.

Oh, he looks so young like this, eyes wide and blue, staring up at Dick like he’s—

Dick stops breathing. He hears his heart pounding in his ears.

“Dick,” Jason whines, reaching for him.

Recovering quickly, Dick takes his hand, tangling their fingers together, then does the same to the other. He continues thrusting into Jason, and Jason squeezes his fingers tight when Dick’s thrusts turn harder.

Dick crosses one hand over the other, watching Jason’s large pecs being squeezed between his biceps. The sight is overbearingly erotic, and Dick quickly uncrosses their arms lest he give into the perverse urge to put his cock between them.

He continues holding Jason’s hands, grateful that Jason hasn’t told him to knock it off. He’s never held hands during sex before. It feels… different but intimate. Comforting. Right. As sex with Jason should be.

“More,” Jason breathes, _“more.”_

What Dick hears is _closer._ He lets go of Jason’s hands, leaning down to lay completely on top of him. Jason grunts but doesn’t seem to be in any pain, and he accommodates the new position by wrapping his legs around Dick’s waist.

Sliding his arms underneath Jason’s body, he buries his face in Jason’s neck, every single sound from Jason’s mouth right in his ear. Jason wraps his arms around him in turn, his fingers digging marks into Dick’s back.

He rolls his lower body slowly against Jason’s, tormenting him, and Jason’s thighs squeeze around Dick’s waist as he opens his mouth wide and lets out a low keen.

“That’s it,” Dick murmurs, giving him one particularly slow thrust that seems to make Jason’s eyes roll up into his head, trembling slightly in his legs.

“A— _aah,_ fucking— _Dick,”_ Jason gasps, then yelps when Dick nips at his throat. _“Ah!_ Dick!”

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he whispers, sucking another mark into his neck.

 _“Yes,_ Dick, yours, yours, _yours.”_

Dick comes hard with Jason’s thighs wrapped tight around him, and when Jason follows soon after, Dick kisses him hard and holds him tight and makes a promise to himself to never let him go.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for slight dub-con:** The sex tape that Dick watches of Slade, Roman, and Jason together may come off a bit dub-conny. Specifically, they manuevre Jason into a position for double penetration without much warning or verbal consent but Jason just goes with it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For what was meant to be a PWP, I sure spent a lot of time writing and re-writing this part over and over, and I’m still not quite content with it, but you know what? I’ve been making y’all wait long enough ☜(˚▽˚)☞

He wakes up in the early hours of morning, way before the sun is even out, because Jason is moving about.

He watches him for a few moments, appreciating the marks he’s left on his skin, the rounded muscles of his back, the curve in his spine, the way his thighs flex and move—before he realises that Jason is putting his clothes on.

“Jay?” he says quietly, and the other man freezes. “Where you going?”

“M’goin’ home, Dick,” he says after a long moment, his voice gruff with sleep. “Thanks for lettin’ me stay the night.”

“You can stay, y’know,” Dick insists, propping his head up on his arm.

Jason turns at that, his brows drawn severely over his eyes. “Yeah, maybe next time.”

Dick huffs a soft laugh. “You know what I mean.”

There is another moment of silence, then a soft hiss of a sigh that seems too loud in the quiet of the night. “Not a chance, Dickie.”

Dick takes a moment to process that, then sits all the way up. “What?”

Jason makes an annoyed little sound and Dick realises then that he’s about one wrong word away from this turning into a full-blown argument—which is not good at all because he’s only just woken up and does not currently have the desire nor the capacity to tiptoe around whatever issue is on Jason’s mind.

“Jason,” he says, as reasonably as possible, “just wait a sec, sit down and let’s talk this out.”

“You already talk too much. I don’t want any part of your little lovebird fantasy,” Jason snaps. “I told you that. Stop trying to change my mind.”

Dick watches Jason struggle with the laces of his shoe before he gives up and just mashes his feet in, crushing the heel collar down.

He is so utterly confused, he thought they were _good_ after last night, he thought he’d finally managed to convince Jason to choose _him._ Why is he acting like he’s woken up next to the most repulsive man in the world? Like he’s... like he’s realised he’s made a huge mistake.

“It’s too early for me to deal with this,” Jason mutters to himself. “Christ.” He makes his way out of the bedroom, Dick staring after him in shock.

“Jason—wait—wait,” he urges, getting his leg tangled in the sheets as he rushes out of bed, falling onto the floor before he frees himself and stumbles after him.

He catches him at the front door, and Jason shakes his grip off.

“Fuck _off,”_ he snarls.

“You said—you said you were mine.”

Jason stares at him, his lips parted in confusion. “That doesn’t mean—you can’t make me _say_ these things in the heat of the moment and expect me to _mean_ them. You’re—you’re fucking _manipulating_ me into doing something I don’t want!”

Dick suddenly can’t breathe, and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest he feels as if he might be about to have a heart attack. The chill of the air is even biting at the sweat on his skin, and he isn’t quite sure if he’s swaying on his feet or if the world is tilting around him, but he feels like he’s about to collapse.

Jason throws the door open and slams it shut behind him, and Dick takes a breath, pressing the shaky exhale into the back of his arm.

  
  


***

  
  


“You look miserable.”

Dick looks up at the boy coming to sit next to him on the ledge.

Tim doesn’t look smug, but he doesn’t look any sorry either. He sits next to Dick and gazes placidly out at the skyline.

“Thanks,” Dick utters sarcastically.

“He _does_ like you, you know,” Tim informs him. “Ridiculously, overwhelmingly so.”

“That’s great, Tim,” Dick says. “It’s also a giant lie. He _hates_ me. Kept trying to tell me, but I didn’t believe him.”

“He doesn’t.”

“After what I did, yeah, he does.” Dick shakes his head as the memory of Jason walking out his door replays itself again. “I don’t know why I keep trying, I should just move on.”

“But you can’t,” Tim finishes for him. “I get it, he’s one of a kind.”

“If you get it, why are you so okay with him sleeping around like he does? Why aren’t you as miserable as I am?”

“I’m not like you, Dick,” he says, patting Dick’s knee. “No one is. You’re passionate and caring and loyal to a _stupidly_ large degree. _Dangerously_ large. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that you tried coming after Slade. Anyway, _I_ understand that he’ll never change the way he is. Especially not if someone tries forcing him to.”

And that’s what he’s been doing. _Forcing_ Jason. The realisation makes him hunch in on himself, pulling his legs up and resting his head on his knees.

“You can’t talk him out of it, and you definitely can’t force him to change. But he still likes you. There’s no denying that. The way he talks about you,” Tim shakes his head, his eyes soft and fond, “it’s like a schoolboy with a crush. He’s all heart eyes and blushing when you’re not around to see.”

Dick blinks at the image. “Really?”

Tim snorts lightly. “Really. No one could _actually_ hate you, Dick. Especially not Jason. He’s looked up to you since he was Robin, I don’t think anything will change that.”

Dick’s heart fills up with a little hope at that, at the thought of there still being something salvageable out of the mess of that morning. “You think he’ll let me talk to him again?”

“I think he’s avoiding you,” Tim answers honestly. “But I think if you show him that you’re not going to chase after him anymore, that you’re not going to try and literally tie him down—”

_“Hey—”_

“—then, _maybe_ he’ll give you another chance.”

Dick shakes his head, huffing a self-deprecating laugh. “He’s given me so many chances.”

They fall into silence, Dick’s thoughts ringing with Jason’s words— _‘One, then. One last chance.’_

It was his last chance and he blew it. He’d gotten his one night, his one _perfect_ night, but he lost Jason. And with the way his chest still aches every time he so much as thinks about him, he isn’t sure it was worth it at all.

He was so close, so unbelievably close, he feels like Jason wormed his way into his heart and broke a piece off himself and left it inside—and it _hurts_ so much.

But Jason warned him. He told Dick not to open his heart—it’s his fault for not listening.

He looks at the boy beside him, grateful for his presence even after the tension between them since this whole thing started. Or perhaps it was mostly one-sided—Dick doesn’t ever remember Tim saying a bad thing against him, just him trying to make Dick see reason.

As if reading his mind, Tim says, “You know, I’m kinda surprised you haven’t come at me again.”

He shakes his head, feeling the regret from that day resurface. “Tim, I should never have _attacked_ you or Jason in the first place. I was in the wrong, and I apologise. It was unfair of me to do that.”

“I understand why you did though.”

“I still could’ve handled it better. I’m not sure if I’m handling it any better now. I’m just trying not to think about it,” he admits.

“Is it weird?”

“Is it _weird?_ Tim, you’re my—of _course_ it’s weird, I—god, I don’t wanna get into it, but you _know_ how I feel. You know how serious I am about him.”

“If you’re going to go on a tangent again that’s really a passive-aggressive way of telling me to break it off, I’m gonna have to stop you there. I’ve heard it all before.” He rolls his eyes, shushing Dick when he denies it— _“I wasn’t!”_ —and looking away before muttering, “You’re not the only one who feels a certain way for him, you know.”

Dick’s eyes go wide. “Tim, what—”

“And even then, that doesn’t matter,” Tim says, steamrolling over him. “It’s his choice. It’s our choice whether we play his game or not. I’m choosing to play.”

Dick stares at him, for once, lost for words. When Tim makes no indication of continuing, Dick just exhales slowly, looking down at his legs swinging over the street below.

Eventually, Tim speaks up again. “Steph’s having a party soon.”

“Her birthday, right? Got the event notification.”

“Are you coming?” Before he can ask, Tim adds, “Jason will be there.”

Dick blinks at the information. “I had no idea they were even friends.”

Tim shrugs. “She came by once while Jason was over. Thought they’d clash but they get on like a house on fire.”

He huffs a laugh at that, trying to imagine the rambunctious younger girl and a shy soul like Jason getting along. “I’ll come,” he decides.

“Obviously,” Tim says, not unkindly. He turns away and hops off the ledge, placing his mask back over his eyes. “It’s getting kinda late. I should head back. See you ‘round, Dick.”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “Wait—Tim?”

Tim turns back to look at him. “Yeah?”

“When did you realise that… you had feelings for him?”

Tim frowns. “I don’t know. It just kind of happened. One moment things were the same, the next—” He stops, shaking his head. “Like I said, he’s one of a kind.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

When he leaves, Dick curls back in on himself, feeling the ache in his chest grow larger.

  
  


***

  
  


The days pass slowly, and Steph’s birthday feels like the only thing he’s really looking forward to. He’s excited, though he knows he’s going to feel so out of place surrounded by people several years younger than him, and his gut is churning with nerves—for a different reason.

She’s invited everyone out to a club downtown, and reserved a booth which barely gets used save for each time she declares every attendee go back and do another round of shots with her. In between all the cocktails people have bought her and the three shot rounds, she is piss drunk by around eleven.

“Where is Jason? Where is that bitch?” she hisses to one of her friends. The poor girl slurs a _dunno,_ obviously having no idea who she’s talking about.

Dick wanders away after watching this display, mourning a time he was once young, dumb, and carefree, feeling entirely his age now.

“What about you?” he says to an inebriated Cass by the bar. “You feeling tired yet?”

She shrugs at him, then wanders off to assert herself in the middle of the dance floor. Dick, feeling somewhat empowered by her confidence, joins in. Jason still hasn’t arrived yet, but he figures he can get a little warmed up before he does. He sways to the music at first, feeling a little awkward, but then a girl, black-haired and tall, comes over and practically slots herself in his arms.

He flashes his best smile at her when she turns around. This. He can do this.

“Don’t like the song?” she shouts at him over the music. Dick realises that he isn’t moving as much as he should be. He makes a face.

“I’m just not a dancer,” he shouts back.

“It’s okay,” she grabs Dick’s hands and puts them higher around her waist, “just follow my lead.”

She shakes her hips in time with the music, and when she turns, putting her back to Dick’s chest, her body pressing up against Dick’s in all the right places, Dick presses back, rolling his hips against hers.

“That’s it,” she says, bringing a hand up to ruffle Dick’s hair playfully before she turns around again.

She laughs breathlessly in his ear, but when she leans in for a kiss, Dick moves his face away. She looks disappointed for a second, but masks it very quickly with a smile.

“Sorry,” she says, removing her hands from Dick’s shoulders and making like she’s going to leave.

“Wait—” Dick says, because he’s just spotted a familiar head of black hair towering above most of the crowd. “We can still dance if you want.”

She looks a little dubious at that, and Dick would feel bad for wasting her time when she could be hooking up with someone else, but he’s desperate to follow through with the plan he’s just cooked up in his head. She eventually seems to come to a decision, smiling again and slipping back into his arms.

Through a gap in the crowd, Dick can see Jason greeting Steph and Tim at the booth with a hug, and his chest clenches at the thought of Jason being so amicable with everyone else except for him.

He dances with the girl through a good amount of songs, meanwhile Jason tosses back a few shots with everyone at the booth. Eventually, he makes his way to the dance floor, and Dick’s entire body tenses with anticipation. Though he’s pretending not to notice him, he can’t help but be very aware of every move he’s making.

Jason’s a lightweight, he can tell, because his eyes are already droopy and the expression on his face is absolutely blissful. He’s grooving to the beat, all cool and casual with his moves, and Dick smiles a little inwardly at the thought of Jason practising all his dance moves in front of a mirror.

He frowns though when a man comes up behind Jason and wraps an arm around his stomach, pulling him close. His frown turns into a glare when Jason doesn’t push him away. In fact, Jason smiles and wiggles his hips in a parody of the move Dick’s own dance partner was making a few minutes ago.

Jason must feel Dick’s glare on him, because he looks up suddenly, straight at Dick, his eyes widening for a moment before they settle into something hard, then he turns away to face the man fully, putting his hands around his waist.

Dick turns away too, feeling annoyance flare up in his gut, and he pulls the girl closer to him and presses a kiss to her lips. She kisses back enthusiastically, and Dick looks up briefly to see Jason looking their way, his face unreadable.

The music suddenly turns slow and sensual, and Jason starts rolling his body, his spine curving deliciously, a dirty little smile on his lips.

Dick gives up all pretenses of pretending not to care and stares openly. Jason is surprisingly graceful for someone as bulky and as intoxicated as he is. He moves his hips in tiny little hypnotising circles, and when the music speeds up again, he manages to keep in time, shaking his ass faster from side to side. When Jason presses a kiss against the guy’s jaw and the guy’s hands come around his waist to grab his ass, Dick sees red.

He abandons the girl and stomps over to the duo and says, “Excuse me,” loudly in the guy’s ear to get his attention.

Jason is glaring at him, and the guy turns and looks him up and down and says, “Yeah?”

A stray thought buried far beneath the sirens going off in his mind is telling him that this is a bad idea, but he growls at the guy, “Stop touching him.”

The guy’s face twists up in confusion. “Sorry?”

Jason steps between them, his eyes filled with anger, nostrils flaring, but before he can throw the punch Dick is sure is coming, Tim appears out of nowhere and says, “Is there a problem here?”

The guy says, “Nah, there’s no problem,” at the same time Jason snaps, “Tell _Dick_ to fuck off.”

“Right.” Tim sighs.

Dick doesn’t even know what to say—he knows the appropriate thing to do would be to apologise, but he can’t bring himself to, not while the guy who was just feeling Jason up is still present. However, at the same time, he isn’t angry or stupid enough to try and defend himself when he knows he’s in the wrong. He’s stuck. If only he could erase the past few minutes.

Sensing Dick isn’t going to say anything, Tim gives a great big roll of his eyes and gestures somewhere behind him. “Well. Your dance partner looks upset,” he tells him.

Dick looks back over his shoulder, and there she is, watching the whole exchange looking like she’s about to cry. His heart sinks.

“You know what, I’m just gonna go,” the guy says, holding up his hands pacifyingly. “Don’t want no part of this drama.”

“Wait.” Jason tries calling him back, but the guy’s already disappeared into the crowd.

Tim blinks, looking between the two. “What _happened?”_

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that,” Jason says lowly, and instead of sounding annoyed, he sounds completely drained of energy. He shoves Dick aside to head back to the booth.

“Jason—wait—” He makes to follow, but Tim stops him and pulls him to the side.

“What are you _doing,_ Dick?”

“I—I have no idea,” Dick admits.

“I think you should go home.”

Dick looks over to the booth where Jason is downing more shots with Steph and her friends.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe I should. Can you—can you tell him I’m sorry?”

Tim stares at him. _“Are_ you?”

He swallows. “I—I’m going home,” he says.

Tim doesn’t say anything as Dick turns and leaves.

  
  


***

  
  


Dick, unfortunately, isn’t given much of a chance to gather himself and find the courage to give a meaningful apology to Jason. Bruce calls him over to the Cave to have him look over a few reports, and it must be unofficial report reviewing day or something because Jason is there too.

He doesn’t look up when Dick comes in, and Dick does his hardest to accept that Jason might not want to talk to him right now. Or ever again.

Jason stays hunched over a few scattered papers on the table, and Dick keeps his head down in an attempt to resist the temptation to look at him, going straight for the computer. Over the clack of the keyboard, he can hear Jason flipping through pages behind him, hear him sigh every few minutes. He wants so badly to turn around and say something, _anything,_ but he knows that won’t go over well. So he keeps working, and tries shoving the ache in his chest deep, deep down, just so he can work without breaking down.

After a few minutes of silence, Dick hears Jason come over and tap at one of the touchscreens. He looks out of the corner of his eye and sees Jason standing, his back facing Dick, holding a paper in his hand and typing something into a database.

Once he looks however, he finds he can’t look away. Jason’s shoulders, wide and rounded, taper down into a narrow waist, and his hips are cocked in such a way Dick would almost think it deliberate, the way his gaze snaps to the curve of his ass, his thighs.

He’s only wearing a shirt, leaving his pale neck exposed—Dick imagines kissing the skin there, listening to Jason moan and breathe beneath him, kissing down that spine, all the way down, between his—

He’s still staring when Jason suddenly turns towards him, and he snatches his gaze away—but not in time apparently because Jason freezes.

Dick holds his breath, but Jason doesn’t say a word, just turns away and goes back to the table.

He finishes up and tries to quell the disappointment within, but as he’s heading for the stairs, Jason speaks up.

“Wanna spar?”

Dick stops where he is and gapes. “Wha—”

“It’s a simple question.”

Though he’s utterly confused and thrumming with high, destructive energy, he’d never turn down a chance to touch Jason again, so there’s really only one way he can answer. “Sure.”

Jason turns and heads for the training mats. Dick follows eagerly behind, trying not to stare too hard when Jason strips off his shirt, leaving him in only a white singlet that clings tight around his chest, his nipples hard and showing through the thin material. Christ. _Christ, Dick, he’s angry with you, show a little restraint, maybe?_

He follows Jason’s lead, pulling his arms up into a defensive stance and matching his pace when he begins circling around the mat.

When Jason lunges forward, Dick absorbs the hit with his arms, when Jason kicks at him, Dick dodges and responds with a leg sweep of his own.

Just when he’s had enough of swiping at each other from a distance, Jason rushes forward and tackles Dick to the floor, Dick landing with a loud _oof_ as he gets the full brunt of Jason’s weight. He slips under Jason’s arm, grabbing tightly onto him as he uses all his strength to roll them until he’s on top, between Jason’s legs. He then tries pinning Jason to the floor, but he can’t get a good hold, so Jason takes advantage of his position and locks his legs around Dick’s midsection, flipping them over and straddling him instead, giving him a little triumphant look despite the lack of a winning submission hold.

Dick is just about to make a quip about how this isn’t proper grappling technique, but then Jason scoots backwards, and Dick tries not to move at all when he feels Jason’s ass cushioning his crotch. He swallows however, very audibly, and doesn’t think he’s imagining the smug look Jason’s giving him.

Embarrassed, and still slightly angry about the club, Dick blurts out the first thing that crosses his mind. “Is this all you wanted? Just to mock me?”

Jason tilts his head, smirking. “Did you just wanna dance with that girl to make me jealous or were you planning to take her home to fuck your problems away?”

Dick sneers. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Jason’s face shuts down. He shoves at Dick’s chest as he gets up, and Dick follows.

“You started this,” he snaps.

“I know I did,” Jason responds, and Dick hears his voice go all wobbly like it does when he’s truly been upset. “I did, but I’m ending it.”

“So _why_ would you do something that you knew would just upset both of us? Just because?”

Jason seems determined to get as far away from Dick as he can, heading quickly for the elevator.

“Jason, it’s not fair that you do this—”

“You wanna talk about fair?” He stops, turning to glare at Dick. “Being fair means not ruining the one night I get to go out and celebrate with my friends, it means letting me dance with other people, because you know what, Dick? You don’t have the right to step in and dictate who I can kiss or fuck or _date._ So I’m sorry for making you upset, but _you’ve_ been doing it since you found out I’ve been with other people.” A little bemused, unbidden laugh bursts from Jason’s lips. “But you’ll just keep doing it, won’t you? Now that I’ve let you have a night, you think you’re entitled to me for life.”

“Of _course_ not. It’s just—every time I see you, I can’t help it. There’s this... _ugly_ feeling I get, whenever I see you with someone else. And I know I don’t have the right to try and control what you do, no one does, I _know_ that, but—I just.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “I need to—I don’t know—put some distance between us. Maybe go back to Blüdhaven for a bit.”

Jason’s staring at the ground at Dick’s feet, but he still sees the shine that forms in the corners of his eyes, the wetness that he quickly blinks away.

“Do you want me to do that?” Dick asks gently, stepping forward hesitantly.

Jason shakes his head. “That won’t help.”

“It might.”

“It won’t,” Jason insists. He looks up, finally, and Dick blinks at the steadfastness of his gaze. “You know it won’t.”

It’s true. He can feel the ache in his chest where Jason has slotted himself into, as unintentional as it was. He doesn’t think he can ever remove him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, because he has nothing else to say.

Jason scoffs. “No, you’re not.”

He moves forward quickly, and Dick barely has time to react before he feels Jason’s lips on his. He puts his arms automatically around his waist, pulling him close. When they part, Jason very quickly rubs his hand over his eyes and Dick pretends not to see.

“I miss you,” Jason whispers. “You’re a fucking asshole, and super fucking embarrassing, but I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Jay.”

“Fuck you.”

Dick shrugs. “If you want,” he answers back easily, and Jason shoves him away again.

“Not funny.”

“But it’s true. I’d do anything for you.”

Jason sighs and rolls his eyes. “I’m sick of you saying that when we both know it isn’t true. _Giving_ shit to people is easy, of course, the hard part is when it’s time to give things up for someone.”

He looks away, avoiding Dick’s gaze, and Dick is just about to ask what he’s talking about, what he’s _thinking_ about that has him looking so sad, when he continues, “I stopped seeing them.”

“Who?” Dick asks, confused.

“Bruce. Tim.”

Dick blinks, not expecting to hear that. “Why?” he asks incredulously. His thoughts to go to that night on the rooftop, when Tim confessed he might feel a little _more_ for Jason, and he feels a stab of pity. It is, however, cast aside and temporarily forgotten when he hears what Jason says next.

Jason shakes his head, looking away. “It was getting to me—they’re too familiar, they remind me so much of you, but—they aren’t you.”

Dick doesn’t think he can take much more of this—his heart is swelling a little more with every admission, and if he stays here, he runs the risk of someone seeing him cry.

“Can—” He stops before he can say something ridiculous like _‘Can you give up everyone else? Can you promise to be mine?’_ “Come home with me?” he asks instead.

Jason nods. Dick takes him home.

  
  


***

  
  


Jason’s leg is bouncing up and down nervously in his periphery.

“I haven’t dated anyone before, you know.”

Dick puts the saucepan he’s holding down on the counter, then turns to face Jason who looks incredibly sheepish, like he’s expecting to be judged. Dick forces himself to pull back his shock and offer him an encouraging smile. “You haven’t?” he prompts, consciously keeping his tone neutral.

“Not really. I held hands with a girl when I was in middle school and declared her my girlfriend, but I don’t think that counts.”

“It’s cute, but yeah, it doesn’t count. Tim wasn’t…?”

“Tim?” Jason raises his brows. “No, we had a mutual agreement. It was just sex.”

Dick nods, turning away again to fill the saucepan up with water before his face betrays him.

Jason’s never dated anyone, he has no romantic experience, and yet, he’s been bedded by dozens of people, many of whom probably had no regard for his feelings, who didn’t show Jason an iota of affection outside the bedroom. He’s _infuriated._

And _Tim._ Jesus. The kid may have said he was down with being in a casual relationship with Jason, but he’s still so young and inexperienced. Dick remembers when every heartbreak when he was young made him feel like he was going to die. He makes a small mental note to check in on him, if he can even stand talking to Dick after this.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when the water starts overflowing. He shuts off the tap and places the saucepan on the stove.

“Was there a reason?” He elaborates, “For you never dating anyone, I mean. Did you just not want to?”

Jason is silent for moment. “I was waiting for someone. I was hoping—well, ah, it doesn’t matter anymore. He never really noticed me. And by the time he did, I was already off doing this shit. Figured I shouldn’t keep waiting for something that wasn’t gonna happen. I’d already had a bunch of fuckers lined up waiting to get with me, why turn them down, y’know?”

Dick scowls down at the water in the saucepan. “His loss.”

Jason snorts. “Yeah. He’s pretty fucking stupid.”

“I don’t—” he starts distractedly, taking a few tries to turn on the stove before the flame finally comes on. “I don’t think any less of you having no dating experience.”

“But you’re upset,” Jason says, as perceptive as ever.

“I’m—I can’t help feeling Roman and Slade and all those people took advantage of you. You’re so young and—” He sighs. “I want to treat you right, make your first dates really special. I want to make sure no one hurts you. I want you to let me care for you. I want you to let me cook for you and help you when you’re hurt and spoil you.”

 _“Spoil_ me?” Jason repeats, looking amused. “Do you even know how to cook? What’re you making?”

“Ramen,” Dick answers, his cheeks warming, pulling out two packets from the cupboard.

Jason snorts. “I dunno if I should be offended that you think I’d be impressed by that or touched that you’re even trying.”

“I’m trying, Jay,” Dick tells him. “I’m trying so hard. I want to… I want to be everything for you.”

He watches Jason sigh heavily, staring down at the table. “That’s the thing. You can’t be everything for me. This—the shit I’ve got going on—I love it. I don’t wanna stop for anyone.”

Dick steps closer, slowly. He doesn’t want Jason seeing anyone else anymore, but he also doesn’t want to suffocate him so much he leaves. He needs to find a compromise somewhere.

“You don’t have to stop,” he says. “If you want to continue having sex with them, you can.”

Jason blinks a few times. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you—you won’t give it all up just for me, but if it makes you happy—you shouldn’t. Give it up, that is.”

Jason looks up at him, his eyes wide, lips parted. “You’re fucking with me,” he says. “You really mean it?”

Dick grimaces. “I’m not ecstatic about it, but if it means you’ll let me be with you, then it’s fine. I want this to work. I want you to… to stay with me. And if I can’t satisfy you alone then you should have whatever you need. But—I get to watch. That’s one of my conditions. Whatever you do, whoever you’re with, you record it and show it to me. I want to make sure you’re not being hurt.”

Something in Jason’s gaze softens. “I can do that, I already record pretty much everything. But, Christ—you’re the only person in the world who would do something like this.” And then, because Jason is a jerk, “You’re one crazy motherfucker, circus boy.”

“Thanks,” he says dryly. He reaches a hand out, then, hopeful that Jason won’t pull away, places it on the side of his face. He strokes his thumb idly across his cheekbone, down, across his bottom lip, and feels the soft kiss of Jason’s breath on his skin as he sighs. “What do you say?” he inquires softly.

Jason’s eyes stay on his. “I guess you’ll want me to tell you beforehand who I’m meeting with, right? Where I’m going, what time I’ll be back.”

“For your safety,” Dick nods. “For my peace of mind.”

Jason sighs again. Then the tip of his tongue flicks out to swipe lightly at Dick’s thumb and he says with a wicked grin, “Deal.”

It’s Dick’s turn to sigh. “Don’t turn this into a deal, Jason. It’s a relationship, and it’s just wanting this relationship to work.” He shakes his head at himself. “We should talk about this more.”

“Fine,” Jason says, leaping up from his chair and turning off the stove. “Tomorrow. Tonight, let’s eat out.”

Dick stares after him. “Eat out?”

“Take me to _dinner,_ Dick,” Jason says, rolling his eyes. “Said you wanted to spoil me. Okay, I’ll let you spoil me. I don’t want your packet ramen.”

Dick feels a small smile grow on his face. “Ramen-ramen then? Japanese? There’s a restaurant a few blocks from here.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jason says softly, and the expression on his face is so openly fond, Dick doesn’t want to point it out lest Jason close himself off to him. “I just don’t trust your cooking. Last time you made mac and cheese it tasted like water.”

“That was the _recipe,”_ Dick insists, “I followed it to a tee, the recipe was just bad.”

“Stick with Kraft, Dickie,” Jason says dismissively as he grabs up Dick’s hand in his own and leads him to the door. “And a word of advice: packet ramen’s not a great first date food.”

“First date?” Dick says, a little dopily, a little off-kilter from Jason holding his hand as well as the admission from him that _this_ is a _date._

Jason gives him a look. “You’re acting like this is _your_ first one ever.”

“Well, it’s the first one I’ve had in a long while that’s made me feel like this.”

The corners of Jason’s lips are just starting to lift up into a smile before he smooths out his face and shakes his head. “Come on. I’m starving.”

  
  


***

  
  


Dating Jason is as wonderful and as hard as Dick imagined it would be. Jason is incredibly affectionate and passionate—when Dick manages to get him to open up. Most of the time, he brushes Dick off or gets embarrassed at Dick calling him cute or beautiful. But when they get into the bedroom, when Dick has Jason beneath him, open and wanting, Dick can tell him anything and Jason will moan or tighten around him, and he won’t push Dick away or tell him to shut up.

So Dick waits until the end of the day, waits until he has Jason bordering on the edge of pleasure and release, to tell him, _“You’re so beautiful, little wing. You’re gorgeous. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,”_ and Jason can only lie there as Dick whispers the words into his neck.

Dick hopes that he’s really listening, that he’s keeping the words and holding them inside. Because then, maybe, he won’t go back to the others. Maybe, if Dick shows him just how wanted he is, how beautiful, he won’t feel the need to seek them out.

But he notices Jason getting antsy sometimes, sees the way his eyes dart around like he’s looking for something else. Someone else.

His suspicions are confirmed when a hand comes down on the table one morning at breakfast, not in a slam, but gently. The motion still manages to catch his eye though, because he can see the hand trembling, fingers splayed wide against the glass.

“Slade and Roman.”

Dick puts down the newspaper and looks up, sees Jason leaning over the table, something hard and determined in his eyes. “What?” he asks.

“Slade. And Roman,” Jason says again, slowly. “Friday night. Sex club.”

Dick realises then what he’s talking about. He makes up his mind right then and there. “No.”

The hard look in Jason’s eye flares up into anger. “Excuse me?”

“I said _no.”_

The hand in front of him closes into a fist. “You said you’d let me be with _whoever_ I want, as long as you can watch.”

“Yes, but—” Anyone _else. God, couldn’t it have been anyone else._ “Just—no.”

“‘Just no’ isn’t good enough, _Dick!_ ”

He doesn’t know why he says it, doesn’t know why he chooses this moment to bring up his biggest insecurity, but maybe it’s because of the overused insult he’s heard hundreds of times before, maybe he’s scared that this new and tentative relationship is about to crumble before it can really be built, but he looks down at the table and the words are out of his mouth before he knows it. “Aren’t I good enough?”

Jason stiffens. “I knew it, I _knew_ the second I agreed to date you, you’d be like this, but I said to myself, _‘Just give him another chance, Jason.’_ You promised you’d be fine with this, you said you’d let me have this, that’s the only reason I told you _yes._ Don’t go back on your word now.”

He’s right. Dick thought he might be able to do it, to share Jason with others, to talk himself into the idea with time, but he hasn’t been able to. He _can’t,_ and will _never_ be able to stomach the thought of Jason having sex with other people. Especially not Slade and Roman. He shakes his head and says, “I’m sorry.”

Jason’s nostrils flare. There’s a long and tense moment where all he does is stare Dick down, but Dick can’t bring himself to look him in the eye. He eventually breaks away and scoffs. “You promised. You _promised_ I could keep doing this, and now you’re going back on your promise!”

“I know,” Dick says, “I’m a hypocrite, but _please._ Please, pick anyone else besides those two.” Because maybe, _maybe_ if it isn’t Slade and Roman he might actually be able to tolerate it.

“And then let you stop me from seeing the next two? Kory and Roy? And the next person who decides they’ve missed me?” Jason argues, jerking his arm away when Dick tries to touch him. “If I wanted to go back to Bruce or Tim, would you want to watch then?” When Dick says nothing in return, Jason softens, but his words are clear. “Relationships take _work._ Take sacrifice. This was never going to be a normal one from the start, and you knew it. We both did. I’ve given up things for you. Now what are you going to do for me?”

 _Anything,_ Dick would say, again, if he truly meant it.

“If you can get through this,” Jason continues, “then we’ll know that you can handle me being with anyone else. Slade is your number one worst person on the entirety of the planet, right? Or is that Roman as well?”

“If you want to have sex with them,” Dick says slowly, hesitantly, “I get to watch. And not just watch your videos _after_ you’ve recorded them—I get to physically _be_ there.”

Jason’s eyes go wide. “Dick, you fucking _hate_ them. If watching my videos makes you go and attack my partners, imagine what will happen when you’re there _in the room.”_

Dick shakes his head. “I’ve learnt my lesson. And besides, it’ll give me peace of mind knowing exactly what’s happening to you. So you either bring them here, or you bring me with you. It’s up to you.”

Jason stares at him, and Dick can see him thinking hard.

Eventually, he concedes, “God, okay, fine. I’ll talk to them. They should be fine with it anyway.” He glares up at Dick. “But if this backfires, and you end up attacking them or something—”

“I won’t.” Probably.

“I know how short your temper can be—”

“I’m not gonna hurt anyone,” Dick insists, then adds, “not if they don’t give me a reason to.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Fine. Fine! But if anything bad happens I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass, swear to god.”

“Okay,” he says. “But no surprises. You need to tell me everything that’s going to happen. Anything, and I mean _anything_ goes off-script, I’m going to pull you out no matter what.”

“This isn’t a mission,” Jason says, but he sounds more amused now, his eyes looking soft and subdued.

“No,” Dick agrees, “but you _are_ important to me.”

“Okay,” Jason says. “Look after me then. But don’t go spreading word on the street that the Red Hood’s being babied by Nightwing.”

“Promise.” He masks his persisting reluctance with a smile, and it seems enough to pacify Jason.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, sincerely, his eyes sparkling and hopeful—Dick would have a better chance fighting Slade than withstanding that look. “I’ll send you the details later, after I’ve spoken to them both. I should warn them that my boyf—” He shuts his mouth abruptly.

Dick looks at him, eyes wide. “What was that, Jay?” he asks, a grin immediately growing on his face, his prior discomfort forgotten.

“Nothing. Get a suit ready, it’s a high-class place and there’s a dress code. Don’t wear anything tacky though—”

“You were about to say ‘boyfriend’.”

“Dick—”

“You were about to call me your _boyfriend!”_

“Okay, yeah,” Jason says exasperatedly, “maybe I was. You’re so weird getting excited over a _word.”_

 _“Jason,”_ Dick says, unable to stop smiling.

“I swear to god, if you keep looking at me like that I’ll call the whole thing off.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Dick says, though he can’t quite quell the fluttery feeling in his gut. “I’ll go look for a suit now.” As he goes to search through his wardrobe, Jason calls after him.

“Dick?”

Dick turns.

Jason sighs. “You’re not—you’re not _bad,_ okay? When you asked if you aren’t good enough—you’re—you’re _Dick Grayson.”_

Dick blinks. “And what does that mean?”

“It means…” He bites his lip, looking off to the side as he thinks. Seemingly steeling himself, he straightens up with a determined look in his eye and approaches Dick. “It means—” Leaning in, he kisses Dick, pressing their lips together softly.

When he leans away, Dick presses two fingers to his lips in a bid to quell the tingle under his skin. He can’t help the goofy smile that grows on them. “And what does that mean?”

Jason rolls his eyes, shoving him away. “I’m no good with words, alright? Figure it out.”

“Jason,” he says aloud with wonder. His little wing is _adorable._

“Go grab a suit, Dick. And bring it to the dry cleaner, I know how gross you get with your clothes.”

Dick could care less about the insult—he’s feeling on top of the world. “Okay, _boyfriend,”_ he says, and Jason snorts a genuine laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m your _boyfriend,”_ Dick croons, leaning an arm on the wall next to Jason, feeling goofy as he does it with a huge grin plastered on his face, but he can’t seem to force it away.

“You’re a dumbass.” He shoves Dick and takes his leave.

Dick is left standing in the kitchen, grinning at nothing.

“Little wing,” he murmurs aloud, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. _“Little wing.”_

  
  


***

  
  


The day of Jason’s… event creeps up on him faster than he can handle.

Jason had given him a black masquerade mask, not unlike his usual domino mask, and when he’d asked why he had to wear one when Slade didn’t—

“Slade has an eyepatch. And a notoriety to his name that Dick Grayson, I don’t think, will ever come close to achieving.” He ran his fingers through Dick’s hair, nails running along his scalp the way he had come to learn Dick liked.

“Think I should get an eyepatch?” Dick had asked, tossing the mask back into its box and smirking at Jason.

Jason had looked down at him, unimpressed, both hands coming up to Dick’s jaw. “I think you should protect those pretty blue eyes at all costs, they’re about the only thing you have going for you.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true.”

“Really? Then what else do you have? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like much.” Jason had teased, his voice low, almost a rumble in his chest. “Come on, pretty boy, tell me.”

Dick had pressed a gentle kiss to the middle of Jason’s throat, then another to his jaw, wrapping his arms around Jason’s middle and pulling him close so their bodies were flush against each other and he could feel Jason’s semi-hard cock against his. He smirked, nudging his knee in between Jason’s legs and watching him squirm. “Why don’t I show you?”

There wasn’t much talking after that, and for the rest of the morning. Jason had ended up very impressed indeed.

Fast forward to now, Jason insisted on getting ready in separate rooms, so when Dick’s ready and waiting for Jason outside in the lounge, he feels his heart swell when Jason comes out of the bedroom, wearing a maroon shirt that clings to him in all the right places, as well as black slacks that accentuate his powerful thighs.

When he remembers who exactly Jason is dressing up for, the feeling turns to one of bitterness and jealousy.

A car is sent to pick Jason—and him—up. It’s long, black, and sleek, and the driver doesn’t say a word as he holds the door open for them.

When Dick raises his brows as they settle into the black leather seats, Jason blushes lightly, looking slightly abashed. “It’s Roman,” he says by way of explanation. “He likes driving me places.”

Dick swallows and grabs the bottle of champagne waiting in an ice bucket on the car’s mini bar. He pops the cork out and pours himself a drink.

“Want any?” he asks, holding his glass up towards Jason and downing it all when he shakes his head no.

He feels Jason staring. “Dick,” he starts.

Dick pours another glass and downs that one too.

“Dick, don’t fucking do that—”

Dick puts his glass back down on the bar. “I’m not!” he says. “I’m not doing anything. I’m done, I just needed a few drinks.”

“If we need to turn around—”

“No,” Dick states immediately. “Look, I’m just nervous, I need some liquid courage, that’s it. I’m not gonna go get myself drunk and not be able to look after you.”

Jason doesn’t look impressed. “I don’t care about you looking after me,” he says, tone snide, “I care about you _embarrassing_ me in front of them.”

 _“Embarrassing_ you?” Dick repeats disbelievingly. “I promised you I wouldn’t—”

 _“You_ promised,” Jason retorts. “I have no idea what drunk Dick will do.”

“I’m not drunk,” Dick states impatiently. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m not going to break my promise. Have some faith in me, please.”

Jason grimaces and shakes his head. “This is just so fucking ridiculous—this is such a bad fucking idea,” he mutters.

Dick reaches across and takes Jason’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. “This is what you wanted, right? I told you I’d try do whatever you want to make you happy. I won’t do anything that’ll compromise your relationship with Slade or Roman.”

Sighing heavily, Jason shuts his eyes, his expression turning apologetic when he opens them again. “I’m sorry. I’m just—so fucking nervous.”

“It’s okay. If we’re both gonna be honest here, you’ve got good reason to believe that.” He continues, “I’m not going to deny that I won’t get jealous inside that club. I will, and it’s going to be hard, but I’m not going to ruin your night.”

“Okay, Dick,” Jason says quietly. “I’m glad… you’re being honest.”

Soon, the car slows to a stop right outside the club. Dick sits all the way up, staring at the entrance through the windows. The walls are dark, innocuous, and plain. There’s no obvious indication of what awaits inside.

“Nervous?” Jason asks.

“A little,” Dick admits. “But I’ll just sit still and quiet, you won’t even know I’m there.”

Jason furrows his brows, looking down at his lap. He sighs. “Dick—”

The door opens and the driver announces, “We’ve arrived,” gesturing for them to get out.

Jason steps out first, and Dick watches as he takes a deep breath, bringing himself up to his full height. Dick follows close behind, and when they get to the bouncers at the door, they’re ushered in without a second glance.

Dick doesn’t know what he was expecting from a sex club, but it isn’t this. There are numerous sofas scattered throughout the room, which is open-spaced and dark, save for a small stage upon which a stripper pole stands, currently occupied by a completely naked woman performing a routine. Many of the sofas are occupied—various arrangements of couples, threesomes, groups, and individuals—and most if not all of them are wearing some sort of mask.

Gasps and moans fill the air, and the occasional slap or two, but there is a noticeable lack of pornographic screaming or talking. Everyone’s just having sex— _leisurely,_ casually, instead of making a big show of it.

There are two or three people geared up in leather harnesses and the like, but overall, Dick finds that they all look… normal. There’s no creepy guy jerking off alone in one corner, no shady-looking gang members. Some are fully dressed, some are naked, some are in the throes of ecstasy whilst others are sitting quietly and just watching. There are also, surprisingly, a lot of younger people. Dick wasn’t expecting to see so many people their age.

There’s a bar near the front, and the bartenders are all dressed in neat, formal wear, the only thing differentiating them from bartenders at a fancy restaurant being the strangely cute-looking leather masks strapped to their faces, some with protruding rabbit ears, some with cat ears, some with snout attachments that make them look like dogs. They’re cute in a way, Dick supposes, softening the BDSM aspect a little.

A host immediately comes up to them, offering them the same leather masks. Jason declines, but Dick takes a cat one with a thanks, and when Jason gives him a look, Dick just grins and quickly swaps it with his masquerade mask.

“That suits you much better,” the host says charmingly, and Jason ignores Dick when he gives him a smug smile.

“Don’t encourage him.”

The host leads them upstairs to another room, this one a little smaller but just as busy as the first. There are still sofas scattered around with various groups making use of them, but there are also benches on one of the side walls, equipped with harnesses and restraints, with an array of tools and toys lining the walls next to them. On one of the benches lies a woman on her front, her arms and legs tied down, her skin bright red where she’s being swatted at with her partner’s paddle.

The host gestures to a large wooden partition near the back, separating the main room from the space behind it. Dick can make out the edge of another sofa and a bed behind the divider.

“The VIP section,” the host says. “Restraints and toys have been provided as requested. As always, please don’t hesitate to call if you need assistance. Enjoy your time here.”

The host leaves to go back downstairs, and Jason and Dick are left to pass by the people on the sofas alone. Dick feels himself go hot with embarrassment when he sees some of them turn to stare even though they can’t see half his face. Perhaps it’s the fact that they’re going to the VIP section that makes him feel like they’ve just announced that they’re going to be involved in the sort of sex you’d need to shield from prying eyes.

They make their way behind the divider, and Dick feels an immediate physical reaction to seeing Roman and Slade sitting on opposite sides of the sofa, sipping on glasses of wine. He tenses up all over and feels his heart rate increase.

They both look up when they enter the room, and Jason comes forward obediently when Roman waves him closer. Dick sees it, the immediate change in Jason’s demeanour—he stands tall but ducks his head slightly, and he doesn’t say a word until Roman asks him who he’s brought along.

“The friend I was telling you about, sir,” Jason answers, and his voice is soft and docile, so unlike his usual self.

Roman barely spares a glance at him. Slade, on the other hand, gives him an appraising eye, and Dick isn’t stupid enough to think that the flimsy mask he has on is enough to stop him from recognising him. He doesn’t say a word to him though, just turns his eye back on Jason and smirks.

“Well, he can sit on the bed opposite us and watch,” Roman says, tone dismissive. “I’m not interested in looking after another brat.”

Dick purses his lips, but goes to sit on the end of the bed anyway, deciding that talking back is not worth having Jason get upset with him.

“Jason, come here,” Roman says, a gloved hand gesturing Jason forward with his finger.

Jason goes obediently, hesitating only for a second before he sits in between Roman and Slade on the couch. Roman reaches out slowly and places his hand on Jason’s thigh. Dick watches the movement like a hawk.

“Are you wearing it?” Roman asks.

Jason’s throat bobs up and down as he swallows. “Yes, sir,” he answers.

“Wearing what?” Slade speaking for the first time since Jason and Dick walked into the room makes Dick look at him automatically again, and Slade only meets his eyes for a second before he’s pointedly looking back down at Jason.

“Well?” Roman says, tone smug. “Don’t you want to show off what you have underneath, Jason?”

Jason swallows again, but doesn’t hesitate this time as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off, and Dick doesn’t take his eyes away, not even when Slade masks an audible appreciative noise at the reveal of the leather harness Jason is wearing. It envelopes his chest almost like a cupless bra, a thin strap running underneath his pecs, and straps crossing over his chest to his neck, where it wraps around like a choker. There are faint marks on his skin already where the harness is strapped tight around his chest.

“Pretty,” Slade says. “Very pretty. Not something I would normally use, but I can somewhat see the appeal.”

Roman chuckles. “Not very practical, I know. It’d easily break if I tried using it like any other harness. It’s more so the _look_ of this that I appreciate.” He pulls at the harness from the back, and the straps dig into Jason’s skin, emphasising the fullness of his pecs.

Slade snorts. “Ah, yes. I see now.”

Roman lets go of the harness and runs his gloved hands down Jason’s sides, all the way down to his thighs and up again, stopping at his chest. He runs his thumbs over the soft pink nubs of Jason’s nipples, and Jason makes a soft noise of discomfort when Roman pinches and pulls at them.

“Sensitive?” Roman asks.

Jason squirms but makes no attempt to push him off or move away. “Hurts,” he says.

Roman hums pityingly. “Oh, I’m sorry. Want me to make it better?”

Before Jason can answer, Roman pushes him back so that he’s leaning against Slade and his legs are pulled up onto the sofa. Roman arranges himself between Jason’s legs and leans in, pressing his mouth to Jason’s chest. His slimy tongue creeps out of his mask and licks up Jason’s nipple.

“O—oh,” Jason gasps as Roman sucks it into his mouth. His hips twitch, but Roman presses a hand down on his thigh to stop him from moving.

“Be good,” he orders, “I’ve heard I’m not the only one who likes punishing a disobedient little slut.”

Dick’s hand clenches into a fist. The jealousy is eating him alive, but somehow he’s managing to fight it, to keep still and keep watching as his boyfriend is touched all over by criminals unworthy of him.

“It’s unfortunate that we can’t do more here,” Slade adds, wrapping his fingers lightly around Jason’s neck, fiddling mindlessly with the choker. “I’ve missed the sound of your screams.”

“It is unfortunate,” Roman agrees. “But I wonder how many of those people outside would stay to watch. Why aren’t they staring now, I wonder. There’s nothing separating us save a flimsy divider that doesn’t even cover the entire wall. They could easily walk in.”

“Y—you paid them off,” Jason accuses weakly, distractedly.

“Did I?” Roman says through a laugh. “Then what’s stopping me from ordering them to come in and watch us take you apart, or letting them take their turns using you?”

Jason glares up at Roman, looking almost defiant. “You wouldn’t. You don’t want to share.”

“Mmm. Then what is it I’m doing now?” Roman questions. “I’m sharing. And this isn’t the first time. I admit, I used to think it was an annoyance, but now I understand the appeal.”

Slade’s gloved hand strokes slowly down Jason’s chest, all the way to his waist, where he unhesitantly and unabashedly rubs over the tent in Jason’s pants.

Jason gasps and tries to press his legs together, but Roman stops him with firm hands on his thighs, uttering, “Uh, uh, uh.”

“Rom—”

Roman slaps him lightly across the face. It’s barely more than a tap, but Dick can’t help the jolt that runs through his body at that, almost getting to his feet.

“Sir,” Jason corrects himself. _“Sir.”_

“Jason,” Roman croons back. “Look at you. You can barely talk, barely think with two men giving you their attention. You’re overwhelmed, aren’t you, my boy?” Roman tuts. “We should have done this sooner.”

“Of course the little whore’s enjoying this. Dozens of partners every day of every week and he still wants _more.”_

Roman laughs. “He’s a greedy little bitch.”

“He’s barely content with being stuffed full of come, and a load from each of us obviously isn’t going to be enough.”

Roman makes an inquisitive noise. “What are you proposing?”

Slade shifts so that he’s got Jason’s arms held down by his sides, his fingers clamped tight around Jason’s wrists. Instead of answering Roman directly, he speaks into Jason’s ear, “We’re going to take our time tearing you apart. You’ve been neglecting us, _boy,_ and I think it’s only fair you pay back what we’re owed with your body.”

Roman chuckles. “I will admit, I’ve been wanting to see him speared on two cocks again. But now I’m wondering if he’ll be able to take it, or if he’ll end up screaming. After all, it _has_ been a long while since we saw you last.”

“By the time we’re done with him, he won’t have a voice to scream with at all.”

Dick’s jaw clenches as Roman huffs a raspy laugh and Slade sneers down at him. They’re so obnoxious, and it makes him feel even worse when part of him realises he can empathise with them. They haven’t seen Jason in months, they’ve been deprived of his attention for so long. Of course they’d want to savour this.

In a way, though it pains him to admit it, he is a lot like them. He understands what it’s like not to be able to have Jason, what it’s like to be ignored by him. He understands that though they act like this, though they call him such derogatory names, that the way they treat him is almost worshipful, that they’re only treating Jason like this because it’s the way he wants to be treated.

Dick can understand the desire to give Jason anything he wants.

That doesn’t mean he has to _like_ it.

With Jason’s hands restrained, Roman takes on the duty of pulling off his remaining clothes. He unbuttons Jason’s pants and slides them down to his thighs, and Slade gives a low whistle when he sees the black leather garter Jason is wearing around his waist to match his harness. The garter, instead of being attached to any stockings, is instead attached to leather straps that wrap around his upper thighs. Dick is reminded of Jason’s gun thigh holsters, and realises that these are a very crude, perverse version of them. In addition to the garter, Jason is wearing what is essentially a black thong. The very small strip of mesh cloth definitely does nothing to hide his erection.

Slade’s smile gives away just how much he enjoys the look of Jason’s outfit. “Now, what exactly is the point of _that?”_

Roman snaps one of the straps, making Jason jolt and flinch. “Purely aesthetic.”

He pulls Jason’s pants down the rest of the way, throwing them onto the floor.

Meanwhile, Slade begins licking at the shell of Jason’s ear, his teeth peeking out every now and then to nip. Jason turns his head to allow Slade to kiss him, but as he does, he catches sight of Dick and freezes. It’s only for a second, then he’s fully embroiled in the kiss, but Dick sees the brief flash of concern on his face, and he wonders what he looks like to make Jason react that way.

He doesn’t think about it for long though, because Roman leans down and presses his palm to Jason’s crotch, kneading at it like he’s a freaking cat or something.

Jason seems to love it, his jaw dropping open, hips hitching up, and he lets out a breathy, “Roman. _Roman!”_

Roman slaps him again, then pulls roughly at his nipple, and Jason lets out a pained gasp.

“How many times do I have to tell you—”

“Sir— _nnghh!_ —sir, wait—”

“Get him up,” Roman orders, and Slade pulls Jason up obediently, so that he’s in a sitting position rather than lying down. “Hold his legs open.”

Slade acquiesces, removing his hold from Jason’s arms and transferring them to underneath his knees instead, leaning back slightly so that most of Jason’s weight is resting on him, his crotch tilted up towards Roman’s face.

“Open your mouth,” Roman says to Jason, and Jason barely parts his lips before Roman shoves his fingers in, thrusting them in and out a few times before removing them.

Jason whimpers. Roman pulls his panties to one side, not even bothering to undo his garter belt to take them off, then shoves his fingers in.

A strangled noise escapes Dick’s throat. He forces himself to sit still as they all pause and look at him, Slade glaring at him with his one eye, Jason looking so overwhelmed but also so concerned at the same time.

“Babe?” he questions, at the same time Roman does something with his fingers that makes him gasp and snap his attention back.

“Who are you talking to?” Roman snaps at him. “You’re with _me_ now. You should only be looking at _me.”_

He pulls his fingers out and spits on them, then returns to fingering Jason. Slade is rubbing himself on Jason’s ass, Dick can see the subtle movement of his hips, but he keeps sending curious looks Dick’s way, as if waiting for Dick to make a move.

Dick doesn’t. He stays where he is and digs his fingers into the bedding. _They’re not hurting him,_ he tells himself. _They’re not hurting him, they’re not—_

Roman leans down, sucking on Jason’s throat, at the same time rubbing his clothed crotch against Jason’s, and Jason grabs onto Roman’s shoulders and twists his fingers up in his jacket, and Slade curls his fingers into Jason’s hair and pulls—

“Wait, wait,” Jason says, but Roman continues mouthing at the junction between his ear and neck, his disgusting tongue slipping out between the zipper on his mask.

“Relax,” Slade tells him, “otherwise it’ll hurt more when we fuck you open.” He jerks his hips then, and Jason bounces on his lap.

Dick doesn’t know how much more he can take. He shuts his eyes for a second—

“B—Brontë!”

Immediately, everything stops.

“What’s wrong?” Slade asks, but Jason is already up and off the couch, coming over to Dick.

He’s breathing hard, his eyes are wide and black, but there’s also something determined in his face that lets Dick know he isn’t out of it entirely.

“Jason?” Dick asks quietly, already off the bed. “Are you okay?”

Jason throws himself into Dick’s arms, burying his face in Dick’s neck. Dick can feel him mouthing at the skin there, his soft kisses the only sound filling the air now that Roman and Slade no longer have Jason between them.

“Take me home,” he whispers.

Dick nods, and guides Jason up to his feet, leading him back out the way they came. He ignores Roman trying to call them back, and misses the way Slade’s sneer falls off his face.

  
  


***

  
  


“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Jason says when they’re back.

He didn’t speak the whole way home, neither did he utter a sound when Dick took off his clothes and lingerie and wiped him down with a warm cloth. It’s only when they’re lying in bed, Dick’s arms wrapped tightly around him, that Jason heaves a shaky sigh and says the words.

Jason is staring up at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have done that to you. I shouldn’t have asked you to sit there and watch me.”

“It’s okay,” Dick insists. “It was my idea, remember? I was fine.”

Jason shakes his head, his face looking pained. “No, you weren’t. I saw you.”

“Well, you weren’t okay either. That was your safeword, wasn’t it?”

Jason snorts. “Yeah. Obviously. Fucking hated Jane Eyre.”

“Why’d you use it?”

Jason turns over in Dick’s arms, and Dick sees him biting his lip again. “I was watching you. You were letting me… letting me be with them, even though it hurt you. You were letting me hurt you,” Jason says, his voice breaking on the last word. “I kept telling you that _you_ needed to make sacrifices, but I wasn’t being fair on you. I wanna be in this relationship too, I wanna make it work. Asking you to just sit by and wait while I fuck around is so—” He groans frustratedly, his face twisting into a grimace. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve done that to you.”

“Jason.”

“I wouldn’t be upset if you decided to leave. I’d deserve it.”

“Jason, I’m not leaving.”

“You should.” He adds, in a mutter, “It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.”

“What—?”

Jason’s face scrunches up, his brows furrowed deeply over his eyes. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Jay,” he says softly, bringing a hand up to run his thumb across his lips. “When did I leave?”

Jason turns his face away, his eyes shut. “It _doesn’t matter.”_

Dick’s heart breaks at the look on his face, and he suddenly remembers that conversation in his kitchen. “Little wing.” He takes Jason’s hand in his own and squeezes them gently. “Little wing, look at me.” Jason finally opens his eyes when Dick brings his hand up to his face and presses gentle kisses on the back, on his knuckles. “The person you were waiting for, the one you said didn’t notice you until it was too late—”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, Dick.”

Dick’s heart aches. “You should’ve told me. Why didn’t you—”

“I was Robin. You were Nightwing. You wouldn’t have seen it as anything other than a stupid crush, and you couldn’t stand being around me anyway. You left. You went away with the Titans and I—” He shakes his head. “I died. And it was too late.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Dick says softly, and Jason looks up at him, his eyes so vulnerable and sad. “You were much too young back then,” he says, chuckling, and Jason rolls his eyes. “But I never hated you, Jay. And since you came back, you’ve been one of the only things on my mind.” He whispers the last part into Jason’s ear, feeling him shiver. “You had, what the kids call, a ‘glow up.’”

Jason snorts, pushing him away. “Shut up. You’re so lame.”

“I’m serious,” he insists, stubbornly coming right back into Jason’s space. He captures his lips in a kiss, bringing his hand up to Jason’s hair, the other wrapping around his waist. “And it isn’t too late, Jay. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Jason moans softly into his mouth, but when Dick says that, he pulls back and looks away. “We could’ve been doing this years ago.”

“Then we just have to make up for lost time.”

Dick adjusts them so he has Jason’s wrists in his grip. Then he pulls down Jason’s boxers.

“Dick—” Jason says in surprise.

“We could do this every day if you want. I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Jason stares at him, his eyes softening. He surges up to kiss him again, then keeps eye contact with Dick as he spreads his legs, and Dick doesn’t need to be told to know exactly what he wants.

He fingers Jason for ages, ensuring that he’s wet, that he’s comfortable and stretched out before he adds more. He isn’t Roman and he isn’t Slade or any of those other assholes—and he wants Jason to understand that.

He turns Jason onto his other side, then, lifting Jason’s leg into the air, fucks into him from behind.

Jason cries out with each thrust, as he’s shoved up towards the headboard and dragged down again by Dick’s iron grip on his waist.

 _“Mine, mine, mine,”_ Dick snarls with every thrust, biting on Jason’s earlobe.

“Yes, _yours,”_ Jason gasps out. “Come on— _ah,”_ he flinches as Dick licks at his ear, then cries out as Dick begins fucking him earnestly. “Just like that, Dick, come on, just like that.”

He pauses for a second, moving around so that Jason’s laying underneath him, then fits himself between his legs again and thrusts in.

“Jason,” he whispers, feeling Jason tremble under him, a shaky little _ahh_ released on the exhales of his shallow breaths. He feels like he’s in heaven, staring down at Jason’s beautiful face, skin pink and sweaty with exertion, laying between his beautiful thighs, scarred and yet still so soft, being held as Jason lets him fuck into his most private place, the most beautiful sounds escaping his perfect mouth. The only thing that could make it better, the cherry on top, is Jason opening those blue-green eyes, tilting his head back, and coming on Dick’s cock.

He reaches down between them, to where Jason’s cock is rubbing against his abs, taking it in hand and giving it a firm stroke. Jason’s jaw drops open, his face furrowing up as he releases a loud moan. Dick continues stroking him, timing it with his thrusts, stroking down on his cock as he fucks up into his hole. He hears Jason’s breaths speed up, until they start to hitch—then Jason’s coming, hips jerking as he paints his own skin white.

Dick stares at the tense line of his neck, the crease between his brows, before finally staring into deep, deep blue-green, and falling into the ocean that is Jason. He comes almost silently, breathing hard, lips hovering an inch above Jason’s, and Dick can’t tell which breaths are his anymore, but he doesn’t care. He and Jason are so close they could merge at this point, and Dick would be the happiest man alive if that meant he’d spend the rest of his days with him.

Jason must feel it, must sense how much Dick wants to be inside him forever, because something in his gaze breaks, and he whispers, _“Dick.”_

But Dick won’t allow his little wing to ever feel troubled again—so he leans down and captures his mouth in a kiss, hoping to transmit his feelings across, hoping to make him understand how much this means to him. Jason opens his mouth willingly for him, and Dick licks into it, sucking on his tongue, then his bottom lip, then moving up to kiss his cheek and finally, the top of his head.

Jason stares up at him all the while, something like understanding dawning on his face.

“Do you finally get it?” he asks, feeling a smile pull at his lips. “I’ve felt this way about you for a long time.”

“I could stand to hear it out loud,” Jason says, smirking, going for slick, but Dick sees the little vulnerability in his gaze.

Dick huffs, his smile growing wider. “I love you, Jason,” he tells him, “I’ve loved you for a long time and I’m sorry for ever making you feel like I didn’t. I want you to myself. I don’t want to share you. I could give you everything, I _will_ give you everything, I’ll give you all of me, you don’t need anyone else.”

Jason’s eyes wide with shock, and Dick almost wants to ask if he was expecting a different answer. “Okay, Dick. Okay.”

“Okay?” Dick asks.

“Yes,” Jason answers. “I think I—” He stops, biting his lip. “I’d be happy with you.”

“Jason,” Dick whispers, his heart swelling.

Jason laughs gently. “I’d also be happy if you pulled out sometime soon. We should clean up.”

Dick blushes. “Actually, I…”

Jason blinks. “You’re serious?” he asks, wiggling his hips a little.

“I’m already hard,” Dick confirms, hanging his head bashfully.

“Oh my god,” Jason says.

“If you don’t want to go again—”

“No!” Jason exclaims, throwing his arms around Dick’s neck and pulling him down, locking his legs around his waist. “Let’s go again.”

Dick laughs softly against his neck. “You’re so cute, little wing.”

“Little wing,” Jason repeats in a scoff. “You know, I’m bigger than you.”

“But you’ll always be my little wing,” Dick whispers lowly, nipping at Jason’s ear. He laughs again when Jason slaps him half-heartedly on the arm in annoyance.

“You’re so smug.”

“I’m just happy,” he admits.

A little later on, after another round of sex, and a warm and relaxed bout of cuddling, Dick finds himself listening to Jason’s soft breaths as he slowly drifts asleep. He can’t be sure, but he thinks he hears Jason whisper something in his ear, something that sounds suspiciously like _I love you._

He falls asleep soon after, dreaming of two Robins, one from the circus and one from the street, meeting and dancing around each other, flying across rooftops, falling in love. He smiles.

  
  


***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, folks. A nice, happy ending to Jason and Dick’s story, with no heartbreak at all.
> 
> —wait, what? Tim? Who’s Tim? ಠ⌣ಠ
> 
> I admit, initially Tim was going to be much more of an asshole, and I suppose I left hints of this throughout as some of you have pointed out. He, for example, was the person who sent Dick the video that made him go after Slade and this was all part of a larger plan to interfere in Dick’s attempts to woo Jason and sabotage any chance of them getting together. HOWEVER, I doubted that would go over well, so I backed away from that. But yes, in part 1, he was originally much more callous and his behaviour was much more emulative of Roman’s before I rewrote him, though I suppose I was still conflicted on whether or not I wanted to go ALL IN on his dastardly deeds as a sub-plot in this part, and it shows. I’ll probably go back and edit those parts.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Hope you’re all doing alright in these crazy times.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/seadrms) | [tumblr](https://jasontttodd.tumblr.com/)


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